Arrangement
by rockstarpeach
Summary: AU. Giles is the controlling sugardaddy, Lindsey's the cocky kept boy. They're good at it. Will their relationship ever grow to be what Lindsey really wants, or will Spike and Wes come between them? Giles/Lindsey Spike/Lindsey Giles/Wes
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, so here's the deal. This story is already completed, and posted on my LJ. And I'm lazy. So, since not all that many people are reading it here, I think I'm gonna stop posting it, and just send any interested parties over here ** http:// rockstarpeach . livejournal . com/72687. html **. But, you know, without the spaces. It's not locked or anything, you just have to tick the box saying that yes, you're 14 and you understand there may be naughty goings on inside. Don't worry, it won't bite :) If, however, anyone is interested in reading it, and you're violently opposed to LJ for some reason, let me know, and I'll keep posting it here.

I know that Giles/Lindsey sounds bizarre, and it did to me too at first, but honestly, they turn out to have a pretty great chemistry. So if you like either or both of these characters, or Spike or Wesley, give this a shot. Full of angst and emotional abuse and all the boys generally being dickheads and idiots. All my favourite stuff :)

This part of the story is actually a separate story, called Naughty or Nice. It was written as a Christmas gift to a friend, on request, and a few months later, it expanded into a longer fic, so I'm just going to post it all as one story. Hope you enjoy! FB is love.

Title: Naughty or Nice, Prequel to Arrangement

Pairing: Giles/Lindsey - this part, but overall there is Giles/Lindsey, Giles/Spike, Giles/Wes, Spike/Lindsey, Spike/Wes, Wes/Lindsey, Giles/Angel... and some others. Yeah, everyone is pretty much a slut :)

Rating: Adult

Summary: AU. Giles is a wealthy older man who keeps Lindsey around for… entertainment. It's Christmas time, and Giles has a Santa costume.

***

Lindsey put down his bottle of beer and switched off the giant plasma screen television when he heard the door open, looking up to see his lover enter the apartment. He grinned, standing and walking over to cupboard, filling a glass with three fingers of whiskey, and handed it to Rupert, kissing him on the mouth.

"So," he said, taking Rupert's hand in his, leading him in through the living room and toward the couch, encouraging him to sit, and straddling his thighs, grinding his pelvis down and placing several small kisses to the older man's neck. Whenever Rupert came home, Lindsey always had a drink and… whatever else he wanted, waiting for him. It was what he did.

Not that he minded in the least. Rupert was 25 years older than he was, and they had almost nothing in common, but he was one sexy son of a bitch, and he was beyond wealthy. He was also a good man, with a heart roughly the size on an ocean liner, but Lindsey cared dick all for that, most of the time.

Lindsey would have stayed with him even if he beat him, demeaned him, used him for his own pleasure and ignored him much of the time, (not that he didn't, sometimes, but usually only when Lindsey asked nicely) because he had a cherry apartment in the middle of Beverly Hills, and as long as Lindsey had him, he'd never want for anything.

Rupert was still wearing his stupid-ass red velvet suit, and ridiculous looking hat, but at least he'd taken the beard off, and Lindsey had to admit, he was about the only Santa he'd ever seen who could give him a hard on just by looking at him.

"Did you put smiles on the faces of all the sick little boys and girls?" he asked, somehow making the question mocking. He unbuckled the oversized black belt and pulled the sides of the red jacket out of the way, revealing the tight white t-shirt stretched over Rupert's torso.

Rupert smiled and took a sip of his drink before putting the glass down on the table next to Lindsey's forgotten beer, turning back to the young man. He trailed one finger down his naked chest to the top of his jogging pants, slipping the finger in and giving a sharp tug. He loved it when Lindsey went shirtless, the view was a spectacular one.

"Get any more marriage proposals from desperate, grateful single moms, wanting to give their kids a brand new step-daddy, just like you?" Lindsey joked, leaned forward again and closing his teeth gently over Rupert's stubbled jaw. "Or did they just show their gratitude in a more basic way? Make use of one of those spare hospital beds and bend over it, let you give them a _real_ reason to be appreciative?"

"Shut your insolent little mouth, boy," Rupert growled, hand snapping up lightening fast the tangle in Lindsey's hair, wrenching his head back sharply. "You know I don't do it to get laid."

He didn't, and it was an insult to his character that Lindsey would imply so, even in jest. He did it because he had more money than he knew what to do with, and he was getting older, could afford to be a little bit eccentric, and it made people happy. Each Christmas Eve he would dress up as Santa Claus, and go down to the Children's hospital to hand out presents. Presents like Playstations and trips to Disney World and season tickets to the Dodgers, all paid for with his own money.

Sure, some parents of the children, mothers and occasionally fathers, would offer to show their appreciation, but he always made it very clear that he didn't expect anything of them.

He roughly pulled Lindsey's face close to his own, crushed his lover's lips against his own with such force that they would both bruise. He knew Lindsey liked that. He slid his other hand inside his pants, delighting to find that he wasn't wearing underwear, and cupped his hard cock in his hand, squeezing just hard enough that it wouldn't hurt. Much.

"Trust me," he said, using the hold on Lindsey's hair to shove him away. "I get just about all the sex I can handle right here at home. I don't need to stoop so low as to take advantage of distraught mothers."

"Maybe," Lindsey agreed, breathless, some absurd bit of pride swelling in him at hearing Rupert refer, in an indirect way, to Lindsey as 'home'. He knew his lover fucked around, the older man had never tried to hide it, but it made Lindsey feel good, special, better than everyone else, that _he_ was the one Rupert wanted to keep.

Lindsey never strayed though. He knew he'd be out on his ass if he ever did, and he liked his life way too much for that.

"But getting your dick wet is one hell of a perk, isn't it?"

Rupert laughed, hardy, and low in his belly, and Lindsey thought, not for the first time that he made a really fuckin' good Santa. He really was a nice guy. "You'd best be careful, darling. Keep talking like that, and I might think that you're jealous."

"As if," Lindsey chuckled, sliding his hands up Rupert's sides, and hooking them into the sleeves of his jacket, sliding it down his arms and off. "You know there's no-one else out there like me. And there's a reason you keep me around."

Yes, that was true. There were several reasons, in fact. He was wonderful to look at, gave him everything he wanted, was in fact rather good company despite, or perhaps because of, his spunk and rebelliousness, and perhaps most importantly, he had a kinky streak a mile wide, and Rupert could very much appreciate that. That was the main reason that he hadn't kicked Lindsey out and replaced him with a newer model when he'd turned thirty.

They liked to pretend it was only about money and sex, but the truth was, deep down, _very_ deep down, there was something more, something that neither of them usually thought much about. They saw something else in each other, really did like each other even if those feelings were secondary.

"Hmmm," Rupert agreed, eyes sliding shut as Lindsey rocked against him, hard cocks rubbing together through their clothing. "I think you should remind me of what that reason is. Suck my dick."

"You know," Lindsey said, grinning, shaking his head slightly. "I would be able to take you a lot more seriously if you weren't dressed like fuckin' Kris Kringle. Pervert."

Rupert's eyebrows rose, almost shooting up into his receding hairline, and he grabbed Lindsey by the chin, hard, with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. "Trying to be funny?" he asked, letting Lindsey go and smacking him lightly in the face with the same hand that had just held him.

"You know what's expected of you, boy," Rupert continued, eyes hard. "You service me, without any lip, without any argument, and I keep your lazy arse in luxury. Now, are you going to do as I asked, or are you going to turn around, sit on Santa's lap, and confess what a very naughty boy you've been?"

Lindsey snorted and opened his mouth wide, stretching out his jaw, trying to feel if Rupert had done any real damage. He hadn't of course, but it would probably turn a little purple. His eyes twinkled as he shifted himself, turned around so that he was sitting sideways across Rupert's lap arm around one of the older man's shoulders, and looked up at him?

"Like this, Santa?" he asked, voice husky and smug, wriggling down on Rupert's lap, ass grinding against the other man's erection, eliciting a gasp from him. He knew this was what his lover had been getting at, what he'd wanted since probably before he'd left the apartment three hours ago, and definitely since some pretty little thing or other had offered herself, and he'd probably accepted.

He liked to play. So did Lindsey. They were good together.

"Am I not getting any presents this year?" he whispered, almost a whimper in Rupert's ear, and he rubbed his free hand over his own painfully hard prick, sighing and shivering, wanting more.

"Do you think you deserve any?" Rupert asked, trying to suppress his smile, glad that Lindsey was up for a little fun. Even if he wasn't, he would have gone along with anyway, ultimately, but he could tell that the younger man enjoyed this just as much as he did. "Go on, little boy," he cooed, taking off his hat and tossing it aside, because Lindsey was right, he did look a little bit foolish, dressed up like jolly old Saint Nick, especially while trying to seduce his young lover. "Tell me whether you've been naughty or nice."

"Hey, you know me Santa," Lindsey answered, smooth and sexy, cocking his head. "I've never been anything but naughty."

"Mmm, yes," Rupert said, thrusting his hips upward a bit, moaning at the feel of his prick rubbing against Lindsey's arse. "Yes, naughty is exactly what you are, little boy."

He placed his hand on Lindsey's knee, drawing it slowly up his thigh, to land solidly on his cock, grasping and rubbing his thumb across it, licking his lips and darting his tongue out to lick across Lindsey's earlobe when the younger man made a distinctly unmanly squeaking sort of a noise. "Tell me what you've done. Tell Santa that you're very, very sorry. Tell me what you're going to do to make up for it, so that you can get your shiny little gifts, like all the other children."

Lindsey closed his eyes and bucked up into Rupert's touch, shivering involuntarily, the remark hitting a little bit close to home. Essentially, that was how it worked between them. He was a good boy, and his sugar daddy spoiled him rotten. He misbehaved in any way, and he was punished. Sure, it was all in fun, but there was an underlying truth to their dynamic.

"But I ain't sorry, Santa," Lindsey said, relaxing into Rupert's embrace, ghost of a smile on his lips. "I love to be naughty."

"That's a shame," Rupert said, clucking his tongue as if here truly disappointed. "I've gotten you something very special for Christmas this year. It's a shame you've been such a naughty boy. Naughty little boys don't get any presents."

"That might be how it works in the movies, but it seems to me the naughtier I am," Lindsey said, pitching his voice just low and submissive enough that he could be sure Rupert would hear him. He, rotated his hips, grinding down hard on Rupert's cock yet again, and tweaked his own nipple, more effect than for personal pleasure. "The more presents I _do_ get."

Rupert chuckled, tightening his grip around Lindsey, pulling him closer, placing a kiss to his temple. "Yes, that's a very good point. In that case, feel free to be as naughty as you like."

"Oh, you don't gotta worry about that," Lindsey said. "I'll be as naughty as I know you want me to be."

"And do you think you deserve presents?" Rupert asked. "Even though you've been a naughty, naughty boy?"

"Hell yes," Lindsey grinned, leaning closer, nipping his teeth over Rupert's jaw. "Gimme, gimme."

Rupert eyed him speculatively, grinning despite himself. "Very well. For your first present, dearest, I'll let you suck my dick." It was a gentle reminder of what Rupert had previously told him to do. He hoped Lindsey wouldn't.

"No," Lindsey answered, not defiantly enough to incur Rupert's wrath, but almost enough to ensure he was punished for his insolence, unconsciously preparing himself for a slap across the face as he let his free hand drift down to his waistband, slipping beneath his pants, grabbing hold of his hard cock.

"Don't," Rupert warned, hand shooting down to grab Lindsey's by his wrist, holding it still. "I don't believe I mentioned that you could indulge in this sort of thing tonight. If my memory fails, please, remind me. Or… are you being a very naughty boy again?"

Lindsey grinned, tightening then releasing the muscles in his back, ass, moving forward and back across Rupert's lap. "Yeah, I am. Think I've been naughty enough for two," he said, almost snarling and pressing up against his lover. "And you'll have to give me a _real_ good present to account for all that naughty."

They both knew what Lindsey meant, knew he wanted Rupert to have an excuse to force Lindsey into doing what he wanted, and that that would be a present for both of them.

"Lindsey," Rupert warned, voice strict and biting, threatening in a way that only someone intimately familiar with him could properly appreciate. "This will be the third time I've asked you tonight."

His use of the word 'asked' was stretching the situation slightly. That wasn't exactly what he'd done. Any of the times. It had been more of an order, really, albeit a nicely phrased one. "And I won't ask again. Suck. My. Dick."

Lindsey shook his head, slowly, grin spreading across his face devilishly. "Make me," he said, the words coming out like an order but both knowing it was a request. Lindsey couldn't order Rupert to do anything he didn't want to do.

Rupert grabbed Lindsey's hair, yanking his head back, grinning when Lindsey cried out in pain. It wasn't any kind of real pain, Rupert knew that, not yet. He used his free hand to tug his own elastic-waisted Santa Claus pants out of the way, down over his hips to his thighs, still forcing Lindsey down by his hair.

"Open wide, darling boy," Rupert suggested, tone light and playful, though Lindsey didn't think for a second that he was kidding.

Rupert wrenched his head down slowly, _very_ slowly, snickering as Lindsey squirmed and tensed, wanting to fight it, but not daring. Oh, the boy was beautiful. Truly. And the fact was, Rupert would have put up with a lot more than just his occasional defiance, if he'd had to, in order to keep Lindsey around. But it was a good thing the boy knew his place, and didn't fight. Not any more than Rupert wanted.

When Lindsey was bent over, almost double, Rupert gave another hard yank to his hair, craning his head back, forcing his knees, his hips, to slide off the couch, down on to the floor with a satisfying thump, landing his face just perfectly in Rupert's lap. He let out the tiniest of chuckles, nodding, stroking his thumb over Lindsey's cheek.

The soft treatment was in sharp contrast to what happened next, not that Lindsey wasn't expecting it. He knew Rupert well, loved his behaviour. That was why he was still with him. Well, that and the HDVT showcasing all his favourite types of porn.

He opened his mouth as wide as he could and didn't resist when Rupert pushed him down, rock hard cock rocketing down his throat in one swift movement. Of course he didn't resist. That was what he'd been counting on. Fuck, but he hadn't been fucking around when he'd decided to settle down with Rupert Giles.

He knew the man would know how to take care of him, and he hadn't been disappointed yet.

"Oh, yes," Rupert breathed out, voice catching, not quite steady. "Oh, yes, Lindsey, that's a very good little boy."

The praise went straight to Lindsey's head, like it always did, and Lindsey didn't bother trying to be cool anymore, didn't bother making his lover work for it, just wanted to bring him off, want to taste his spunk, coating his mouth, over his tongue, his teeth, his lips. Oh, fuck yes, he wanted to taste.

And like he knew he wouldn't, Rupert didn't disappoint. Lindsey employed all his best skills, allowed to only because Rupert didn't stop him, to bring the older man to orgasm, quickly and efficiently. Two, three, four swallows of his lips around Rupert's cock, his eyes closed, his throat vibrating with his own hums of pleasure, and he was almost blindsided by the other man's release.

He managed to pull back just in time to stop the flood down his throat and straight to his belly, but not soon enough to prevent his own release. He was almost hardwired to shoot as soon as the old man did, the idea that he might not get to come at all if he didn't by the time his lover was spent had been long since ingrained in him, and at the first taste of Rupert's jizz on his tongue, his body bucked and shuddered, and his balls drew up tight against his abdomen.

"Fuck! Goddamn, Rupert," he managed to gring out, teeth clenched together as he shot his load out into his pants. He would have been embarrassed, if he were a completely different person. His lover was simultaneously shooting all over his own stomach, cum spurting into the air and back down over his cock, pelvis, hips as he keened and moaned, and promised Lindsey a pony, if he'd heard him right. He must be getting _really_ good at this. Or, Rupert was getting _really_ into the whole 'Santa' thing.

What Rupert promised in the throws of passion didn't much matter to Lindsey. He knew he could get whatever he wanted out of the old man, any time of the day, just as long as he did his part, gave Rupert what he needed.

"Dear Lord," Rupert sighed, the last twinges of his orgasm leaving his body, shooting up into nothing, Lindsey having abandoned his post several seconds ago.

And then Lindsey's face was pressed to his nether region, tongue jutting out to lap up the dregs of his orgasm from his penis, his groin, his lower abdomen, swallowing any of the sticky fluid he could find. And damn, but it was just as good as it always was. He'd trained the boy well. He knew he wasn't supposed to swallow, not right away.

He was supposed to be doing exactly as he was doing. Licking up every last drop, slowly savouring each one of them on his tongue before swallowing them down, making sure he got a damn good taste of his benefactor, the flavour now almost as familiar as his own tongue.

"Did you…?" Rupert panted, doing a very respectable job of levelling his breathing, almost immediately. "Did you come, Lindsey?"

A panicked expression crossed Lindsey's face for the briefest of seconds, but it was long enough for Rupert to see it. He didn't know how Rupert could have known, and he hadn't been worried because he knew he could be hard again, as soon as the other man needed him to be.

"Yeah," he admitted, knowing that he really couldn't lie. "Sorry, babe. You turn me on so much, I just couldn't help it. I didn't touch myself, I swear."

"Hrmm," Rupert mumbled, lips pursed together, considering. He knew Lindsey was telling the truth, and the fact that his own climax and nothing else had triggered the younger man's was enough for Rupert to show leniency.

"Stand up," he ordered, and Lindsey hastened to obey, almost stepping on Rupert's feet on his way up. "Take your pants off."

Lindsey did that as well, not hesitating at all, and dropped his grey sweats to the floor next to where he stood, at Rupert's feet.

The older man sighed, shaking his head the barest bit, as if unable to believe Lindsey incapable of following simple orders. "I didn't tell you to drop them on my floor." '_My_ floor. Nice touch', Lindsey thought. "Pick them up," Rupert commanded, nodding to the pants on the floor, relaxing back into the soft cushions of the couch.

Lindsey barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes and salute, but did as Rupert instructed, bending down to pick up discarded sweats, then standing up straight, holding them in his hand, not quite sure what to do with them. Rupert just stared at him, gave him no clue, and after almost a minute he started to become uncomfortable, shifted from foot to foot, fingers playing with the drawstring, trying to work the stubborn knot open, for lack of anything better to do.

"Well?" he finally snapped, anxiety getting the better of him, needing his lover to say something, to _do_ something. "What the fuck are you gonna do? Send me to bed without any supper?"

"Funny," Rupert said sarcastically, but smiling a little, as though he thought it actually was. "You know I can't force you to do anything, Lindsey. I just ask. You're here because you want to be. Because we both get something out of this. If that's changed for you, all you have to do is let me know."

Rupert was right, Lindsey _was_ there because he wanted to be. The truth was, he liked their games, most of the time, but the thought crossed his mind that he'd become a little too comfortable in his life, a little too sure that Rupert would never cut him loose. He wasn't getting any younger, and he'd put on a few pounds recently, and Rupert was the kind of man (the obscenely rich kind, not to mention actually a decent human being) that could have anyone he wanted.

The reminder that this could end was like a punch to Lindsey's gut, even if Rupert had said that it would be up to Lindsey. For some reason he didn't like how… okay… his lover seemed at the thought of Lindsey deciding to up pack up and leave.

"No," Lindsey answered quietly, looking down at the floor briefly before meeting Rupert's eyes again. "No, I'm good."

"I'm sorry, darling," Rupert said on the slightest of sighs, giving Lindsey the impression that he actually might be, but he wasn't happy about it. "That was unfair." It _had_ been, and that had been the point. He had no intention of letting Lindsey go anywhere, but it never hurt to point out that the boy was in a position of privilege, and that privilege could be taken away the second that Rupert was truly unhappy about something.

"I very much want you here with me." His eyes moved up and down Lindsey's naked form, drinking in the spectacular sight, letting Lindsey know exactly why it was that he wanted him here, not that he didn't already. "Now. I think you should clean up that disgusting mess you've made," he suggested, nodding toward the pants in Lindsey's hands."

Lindsey blinked, snapping his eyes back from where they'd drifted, down Rupert's body to his spent cock, lying nestled in a thick patch of dark hair, to his face. "What?"

"The pants?" Rupert prompted. "The mess you've made of them? Clean it up."

"Uh… you want me to laundry? Now?" Lindsey never did laundry, let alone on Christmas Eve, unless Rupert was really trying to make a point about something. They had someone for that. Several someones. And Lindsey was doted on, completely, as long as he was worth it.

"Oh, for God's sake," Rupert grumbled. "I want you to eat it. I want you to lick every last drop of your cum out of that fabric, and swallow it down."

"Oh," Lindsey smiled, thinking that was a little more like it. This he could do. Anything to get the old man off, and Lindsey knew he'd be rewarded. Plus, he liked it. "Whatever you say, baby."

He flipped the top of his pants inside out and took the crotch in his right hand, placing the stain over his palm, so that the majority of the wetness, the white sticky fluid, was accessible. They'd both just come, and Lindsey wasn't even all that turned on anymore, and he snuck one more glance at his lovers cock, trying to draw on any excitement the sight might muster.

Eating his own cold cum out of his pants, when he wasn't even really in any shape to have sex wasn't something that was all that appealing, but he hoped this was a sign that things weren't finished yet that night, that there would more pleasurable things in store for him if he did this.

Rupert watched Lindsey bring the sweats to his face, watching him breathe the scent in deeply, eyes closing as he licked his lips, then opened his mouth. Shit, but that was a pretty sight. He felt blood start to head south again, marvelling that he might, in fact, be able to become hard such a short time after climax. It certainly wasn't the norm these days, but he was glad of it, quickly abandoning the idea of getting out one of their many dildos.

Lindsey seemed to take to his task eagerly, moaned around the cloth, licking up the wetness that remained, even pushing the material to his mouth and sucking, tongue working over it like he was trying to bring it off.

He knew that Lindsey might be hesitant about this, but he'd done it anyway, and if the random twitches in his dick were anything to go by, he was actually starting to enjoy it. Rupert certainly was. After two minutes of watching, and yes, alright, playing with himself, just to help speed things up, Rupert was hard again. But Lindsey still wasn't.

"Come on, sweet little boy," Rupert coaxed. "You can do better than that. Show me how much you love it. Eat it up. Show me what a little bitch you are, desperate for the taste of jizz, even if it is your own." He tried to hide his grin, knowing that he was pushing Lindsey just a little too far.

Lindsey growled, trying not to let the words get him, not in a good way anyway, and yanked the pants from his face. He had actually started to enjoy it, after a few seconds, the taste of himself, of how he'd reacted to his lover, knowing that Rupert was watching him, was getting off on watching him. It wasn't enough to get him fully hard again, but it had been something.

And of course, the fucking sanctimonious prick just had to shove it in his face. Lindsey really, really hated that he liked that so much.

"It's clean, alright?" Lindsey asked, holding the pants out for Rupert's appraisal, wanting this part to be over.

"Very good," Rupert praised, hand still working almost absently over his cock. "How did it taste?"

"How did… what? It tasted like fuckin' sperm and cotton and bleach. What the fuck do you think it tasted like?" It had, but he'd liked it. His dick was halfway to hard again, and only part of that was due to the fact that he was almost unable to tear his eyes away from Rupert's hand working over his own erection. "And you might want to have a talk with Anna Louisa. I think she could probably put the wash on an extra rinse cycle." It had tasted like bleach just a little too much.

"Duly noted," Rupert said, sternly. "And I think you're being a naughty boy again. Didn't we discuss this?"

Lindsey smirked, little huff of laughter coming out, despite his embarrassment and anger. "Yeah we did. And I think we decided that if I've been bad, then that can only be a good thing for me."

Rupert raised an eyebrow and looked at Lindsey, impressed by his boldness, but not at all surprised. "Well then, naughty little boy," he said, voice pitched low and seductive. "Why don't you come and sit on Santa's lap?"

Lindsey snorted, tossing the pants aside, sure that he wouldn't be chastised for it, and stepped forward, placing his hands on Rupert's knees. "Oh yeah," he agreed, hands trailing up his lover's thighs as he placed one knee, then the other, on the couch on either side of Rupert's hips. "You want me to give you my Christmas list?"

Rupert smirked at him, planted his hands firmly on Lindsey's hips so that he had every control over the younger man's actions. "If you like," he said, reaching up to take his lips in a much softer kiss than Lindsey was expecting. He used the element of surprise to roughly pull Lindsey's hips down, thrusting his cock up inside him in one violent stroke. It hurt a little. Both of them, since there wasn't any lubrication besides the remnants of his own sperm that Lindsey had failed to clean, and he was usually very thorough.

But it hurt Lindsey more, and he cried out, sharp and short, working through it like a pro, like he always did.

"But I won't care," Rupert continued talking, thrust up into him again and again, like nothing had happened, like Lindsey wasn't gritting his teeth against the pain and panting viciously, trying to get his own body under control. "Your Christmas list, Lindsey, is whatever the bloody hell I'd like it to be. And right now, that's my cock in your tight little arse, as far as it can go."

"Ungh," Lindsey managed, eloquently, still trying to adjust to the intrusion. It wasn't new. Rupert took him unprepared and sudden sometimes. Not often, but Lindsey knew how to deal with it, how to enjoy it, and he supposed he'd earned it tonight.

It wasn't long, maybe 30 seconds, maybe a minute, of Rupert relentlessly pounding up into his ass, hands clenching tightly on his hips, and Lindsey was pushing back against him, trying to drive him even deeper, relaxed enough to not only enjoy it, but to demand more.

He was fully hard again now, Rupert's cock jabbing up against his prostate with every stroke, and he grabbed Rupert's shoulder in his hands, squeezing gently for support.

"Fuck, Yes, Rupert, that's goddamn number one on my list," he panted, working himself up and down, taking over the motions. He felt a little of the pressure come off him when Rupert removed his hands, placing them down on the couch beside them, knowing that Rupert trusted he'd come around enough to finish this.

Lindsey liked that, the other man's cessation of dominance, even if was only physical, the mental dominance still extremely glaring. Lindsey liked being trusted enough to do what was expected. He always had, and he probably always would. There wasn't a very good chance he'd come across someone as wealthy, as sexy, as kind as Rupert, in the next however many years it would take him to kick it, and he was hoping to be kept around for as long as possible, maybe even get a little something out of the deal to ensure his lifestyle when Rupert wasn't around anymore.

"Very, very good, Lindsey," Rupert cooed, fists clenching, eyes shutting. "Oh, yes, so good." Rupert was ashamed to admit that he was getting close again, hoping to outlast his young partner.

"Hey, it's what I do, baby," Lindsey told him, a whisper in his ear, breath catching as he fell down again on Rupert's cock. "Fuck, you make me hot." It wasn't even close to a lie, he wouldn't bother trying for one, but he did tend to exaggerate his pleasure. "Oh, fuck, Rupert… YES!"

And then Rupert's hands shot to Lindsey's hips again, holding him fast, preventing any sort of movement. "Call me Santa," he ordered at Lindsey's questioning look, his lip quirking up at the side.

"What?" Lindsey asked, almost dazed, trying in vain to move his hips, to get more stimulation. He was very close to his second orgasm of the night, and he really didn't want his lover to suddenly decide he didn't deserve one. And considering the mood he was in, that was a distinct possibility.

"Call me Santa, little boy," Rupert repeated, pulling Lindsey closer by his hips, sliding him slowly against his own body.

"Shit," Lindsey breathed out, going with the movement, and happy to find that Rupert had let up, letting him take over again. "You're one twisted old man, _Santa_," he said, but only rode Rupert's cock harder, pushing each of them closer to their second, and probably final, climax of the evening.

"And lucky for me," Rupert gasped, his cock swallowed and clenched tightly by Lindsey's hole. "You're equally so, my sweet. And I know you love it."

Lindsey didn't try to argue. It would have been a lie. He did love it.

"That's it, naughty little boy," Rupert encouraged, tilting his head up, pleased when Lindsey bent down to meet his lips. The kiss lasted longer than either of them thought it would, both taking a great deal of pleasure in the intimate action, Lindsey getting off more than a little bit on controlling it. "Ride Santa's cock."

"You're such…" Lindsey started, breath catching and unable to continue right away as Rupert thrust up harder into him, suddenly and roughly. "… perv…" he managed, but he was still smiling a handful of seconds later when Rupert gripped his cock firmly, jacking him to completion.

"Fuck! Santa!" Lindsey cried out when he lost the battle he wasn't even trying to fight, and shot his load out all over himself, all over Rupert's hand. And his stomach, and shirt, and… shit, it had gotten on his jacket and pants, too. Damn. Rupert didn't take kindly to his clothing being soiled.

Rupert's climax wasn't far behind, much to his disappointment. He would have liked for it to have lasted a little longer.

But everything about the young man was pure temptation, and he couldn't possibly hold back. Not when he'd seen Lindsey's face, heard his moans, felt the tensing of his muscles around his own cock. No, Lindsey was far harder than he pretended, to resist, and Rupert couldn't help but buck up, cry out, shoot his seed deep into Lindsey's bowels, and crash down again, almost as violently.

"Shit," he said, rasping for breath, yanking Lindsey toward him. He kissed him, hard and vicious and owning, and Lindsey knew it for the expression of affection it was. An expression of as close as they could ever come to love.

He appreciated it. Liked the feeling of security that it gave him, and when Rupert pulled back, Lindsey leaned forward, trying to keep the kiss going. It was a calculated move. Sure, he might want it, but that was inconsequential. If Rupert _thought_ he wanted it, it would give him a deeper in, make him all the more indispensable. There was nothing most people loved more than being loved, desired, and Rupert was no exception.

Rupert let Lindsey drag the kiss on for a few more seconds, but eventually pushed him away with a smile.

"You're more obvious than you think, dearest," Rupert told him, his keen eye making Lindsey slightly nervous. It was a mystery to Lindsey whey he kept up with all the endearments. "No matter. I enjoy it. Enjoy _you_."

"Rupert, I…" Lindsey said, grinding his hips down against the other man's, yet again, despite the fact that they were both spent.

"Yes," Rupert assured, him, hand stroking down his head, fingers playing through his hair. "Yes, I know. Now, get off me, and let's get me out of this ridiculous outfit."

Lindsey smiled at him, standing up and reaching his hands forward. He closed his fingers around Rupert's when he placed then in his palms, and pulled, gently, bringing his lover to his feet.

When Rupert was standing, when they both were, he kissed him again, just the smallest peck on the mouth before he worked his way across and down, covering Rupert's cheek, his chin, his neck with his lips. He knew Rupert tended to like things a little softer after sex, stupidly wanting to reassure Lindsey, he supposed, that he was more than just a convenient hole. He was pretty sure it wasn't true, but he tended to like these moments, too.

Lindsey slowly stripped the jacket down over Rupert's arms, the white t-shirt up over his head, the pants down his legs, piling the entire costume at his lover's feet. "Anything you want, baby," he told him, kissing him again and rubbing his own naked body up against Rupert's for the first time that night.

"Lindsey," Rupert started, considering and then continuing, feeling as though he had nothing to lose. "I feel as though I've grown quite attached to you, in some ridiculous way. I'm quite sure you've reaslied that." And Rupert knew that Lindsey felt the same way, but he didn't see any advantage in bringing it up. "You might try to use that knowledge against me, but be warned, you won't succeed."

"No, I wouldn't…" What wouldn't he do? Try to get Rupert to fall in love with him, by all means necessary? Do all he could to make things exactly the way Rupert wanted, to make him desire Lindsey above all others? Try to secure his position, change the dynamic of the relationship so that they could do things the way _he_ wanted more often, and stop his lover from sticking his dick inside any passing hole that caught his fancy? Yes, yes, he would, and they both knew that.

"Lindsey," Rupert warned again, deliberate and even.

"I'd never do anything to hurt you," Lindsey said, thinking it was pretty close to the truth. He'd never love Rupert, but he wasn't stupid enough to think that the man could ever really love him either, and even if he started to, Lindsey would make sure that he wasn't sorry about it.

"That," Rupert stated, placing his hands around Lindsey's shoulders, pulling him closer, smiling and kissing him. "Is a lie."

Lindsey was glad Rupert thought that. Even if lying would get him punished, it was better than Rupert knowing the truth. Lindsey grinned a sly grin and raised a playful eyebrow. "Bed?" he suggested, nudging his hips against his lover's. Even if they wouldn't be having any more sex that night, Lindsey knew exactly how to behave to get Rupert to forget about anything that Lindsey might have done to piss him off that night.

"Of course, love," Rupert agreed warmly. "You go. I'll be there in just a few moments. I have a phone call to make."

Lindsey nodded, not bothering to ask who he was calling, or why. Rupert never told him. It was none of his business. He turned and started toward the bedroom, stopping after a few steps, when Rupert called his name.

"Lindsey?"

"Yeah?" he asked, turning back.

Rupert picked the discarded Santa suit up off the floor and tossed to the younger man, who, though surprised, managed to catch it. "You'll of course clean and press that tomorrow, personally. By hand."

Lindsey chuckled and shook his head, looking down at the clothing in his arms and then back up at Rupert. Damn. Lindsey hated laundry. "Sure baby," he agreed. What could he say? No?

Rupert nodded his approval and picked the telephone up off the coffee table, smiling briefly at Lindsey before he placed his call. "Merry Christmas, my dear," he said to the young man, who rolled his eyes and headed into the bedroom.

"Merry Christmas, Rupert," he mumbled as he rounded the corner down the hall. He tossed the wrinkled and stained red and white bundle into the corner and threw himself down on the bed, smiling and crossing his hands together over his stomach as the mattress bounced under the force of his collapse.

Maybe he could manage to keep the old man in bed all day tomorrow, and he'd forget all about cum-covered dress-up clothes. It was worth a shot.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Arrangement

Characters/Pairings: Giles/Lindsey, Lindsey/Spike, Giles/Wes, Giles/others, other slight pairings

Rating: Adult

Summary: Giles is a ridiculously unfaithful wealthy older man, keeping Lindsey around for pleasure and company, but when someone else catches Lindsey's eye, he realises he wants more out of a relationship. Giles has sex with just about everyone. Spike tries to. Wes gets in over his head.

So, let me break it down. Suggardaddy!Giles, bitch!Lindsey, troublemaker!Spike, naïve!Wes. *nods*

Chapter 1

"You sure you just don't want to stay in today, baby?" Lindsey asked, smiling coyly and tilting his head toward his lover as he emerged from the bedroom, dressed and ready to go. He had been slouching on the couch in the living room, listening to the radio and he spread his thighs just a bit wider than they already were and not so casually rubbed one hand over his groin and down his thigh.

"Sorry, darling," Rupert answered, smiling apologetically and picking up his jacket from where it had been tossed the previous day, over a barstool at the breakfast nook in the kitchen. "But I promised Ethan I'd meet with his nephew. And sit up straight, sweetheart. I know you're young and indestructible, but slouching like that will catch up with you some day, and I'd like you stay limber." He shot Lindsey a flirty look and zipped up his jacket.

Lindsey repressed a sigh, barely, and sat up, moving the hand that was rubbing up and down his own thigh to a less provocative location on the arm of the sofa. "Ethan's nephew?" he asked. "What for?"

Ethan was Rupert's business partner. Well, Rupert was a silent partner these days, having decided, once he was richer than God, that he didn't want to work anymore, so it wasn't often he saw him anymore, unless they were going to one of their semi-annual parties, or some sort of company event that Rupert attended only for show. And then usually with Lindsey on his arm, all dressed up in a fancy tux and introduced to people only as 'Lindsey'. Not as his partner, or boyfriend or even friend. Just 'Lindsey'. But Rupert would hold his hand and kiss him and flirt with other people as he stood by and smiled, and Lindsey had no doubt that everyone there knew exactly what he was.

Ethan and Rupert had created, and now owned, some multi-billion dollar computer software corporation. Lindsey hadn't believed him at first, thought it was just some cheesy line to get him into bed, because Rupert hated computers. He didn't even have one in his home until Lindsey moved in and insisted he needed one.

He had stopped actively working before Lindsey had met him, preferring to just do whatever the hell he pleased whenever the hell he pleased. And as long as he still owned 40% of the company, and got 40% of its profits, then Lindsey was very much okay with that.

"Liam has just moved to California, from Montana, to be an actor. Yes," he agreed, as Lindsey rolled his eyes. "Typical, I know. But Ethan says that he's quite something to look at, if talentless, and our head of PR thinks he'd be perfect for our new ad campaign. Ethan wants me to meet with him, hoping that I'll agree."

"Ah, I see," Lindsey said, smiling confidently, pushing back into the couch and getting comfortable once again. "You can't stay home with me, because you have to go have lunch with some pretty little aspiring actor." His words might have been accusing, if not for the amused tone in which he delivered them.

"Drinks, actually," Rupert corrected, crossing the room to stand next to the couch where Lindsey was sitting. He bent down and placed his hand on the back of Lindsey's neck, pulling him closer. "And I hate aspiring actors," he whispered into Lindsey's ear, before biting the lobe sharply, and tugging. "Almost as much as the successful ones."

"Yeah, I'm sure it'll be rough," Lindsey snorted, leaning into Rupert's touch, even after the older man pulled away and stood up. "Having some hot young guy doing whatever he can to impress you."

"It does sound rather familiar," Rupert smiled. "I shouldn't be late. I can't see this taking longer than a couple of hours. I'll be home for a late supper, and then you can do your very best to convince me to buy you that brand new corvette."

He knew that Lindsey had been wanting the car, had planned to buy it for him anyway, for his birthday in a month, but it wouldn't do for Lindsey to think he didn't have to earn it. And when Lindsey tried to earn something it was always fun for the both of them.

"Sounds good, baby," Lindsey told him, in that rough, gravel-smooth voice that he knew turned Rupert's insides to jelly. "I'll be waiting."

"Yes," Rupert agreed, confident that his young lover wouldn't be doing anything other than sitting at home, waiting for his return. "You will."

***

That had been seven hours ago. Lindsey had left the house more than three hours ago, finding himself at _Willie's_, a smallish sort of neighbourhood bar, that he and Rupert went to together a few times a week. Usually only for a drink on the way home from or out to somewhere, but occasionally they'd spend hours there, drinking, talking, laughing, spending time with other people.

With a name like _Willie's_, it was little wonder that a significant percentage of the bar's patronage was gay men, though it wasn't strictly a 'gay bar'. They didn't have to be discreet about who and what they were to each other there, not that Rupert had a problem with that any place they went, and Lindsey didn't either. Not that he would have dared voice an objection if he did. He'd hate to see what his lover would do if he thought that Lindsey was ashamed of him in any way.

He wasn't. He really wasn't. He was proud to have someone like Rupert in his life, proud to be his. But it wasn't everywhere they went that people would openly welcome homos. He felt more comfortable at Willie's than he did almost anywhere but their home, so it made sense that that's where he'd go when he needed some comfort.

"Get you another, gorgeous?" The bleached blond bartender asked, when Lindsey's drink got low, leaning forward just a little too far toward Lindsey on the bar, voice pitched low and sexy, and waggling his eyebrows. He was obviously looking for a big tip, Lindsey thought.

"Yeah, sure," he answered absently, finishing off the last of his bourbon, and pushing the glass toward the man behind the bar. He was cute, Lindsey had to admit. Way too cocky, from what he'd seen, not that they'd ever actually really spoken. But Lindsey had seen him, talking with customers, flirting, making out with a different boy each time Lindsey headed down the hall to the washroom when the blond was on a break.

He could tell the guy thought a lot of himself, and Lindsey had a hard time blaming him for it, thinking he wouldn't mind finding out a little more about him, if Rupert wouldn't tan his hide and send him packing for even entertaining the idea.

Spike, the bartender filled up another glass, a double this time, even though Lindsey hadn't ordered one last time, and placed it in front of him on the bar. "On the house," he whispered, smiling, and winked.

The man was cute, Spike thought, and he was on his own tonight. He knew that he was with another man, an older man, Rupert, who essentially acted as his sugar daddy, keeping Lindsey in fancy jeans and hi-def porn, and he knew Rupert fucked around. He wasn't certain, but he figured Lindsey didn't have the same luxury, but since he'd seen Rupert come and go with someone else that night, he figured Lindsey would have at least a few hours before he was expected home, and it was worth a shot.

"Thanks," Lindsey said, snorting and shaking his head. His pocket was essentially bottomless, even though it wasn't his own money, and he sure as hell didn't need a free drink. The bartender must have known that, he'd seen him around with Rupert enough times, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was after more than just a tip.

"Name's Spike. Get you anything else?" Spike asked pointedly, placing his hand on the bar just in front of Lindsey's, knuckles brushing against the other man's, gliding his tongue over his top lip.

"Lindsey. And thanks," Lindsey said again, pulling his hand back just out of the blond's reach. "I'm with someone."

"Not tonight you're not," Spike said.

And yeah, Lindsey knew that. That's what had brought him out on his own, to somewhere that he felt comfortable, felt a little less alone.

Rupert had called him at eight o'clock to say that something had come up and he was going to be late. Lindsey had a pretty damn good guess as to what exactly had 'come up', and yeah, it was probably his lover's cock when he'd gotten close to someone who was no doubt young and pretty and built. Whoever the fuckin' hell this _Liam_ guy was.

It didn't happen often, Rupert getting distracted and going off with someone else, and even then it was only when someone else made the first move. It didn't even usually bother Lindsey all that much. At first he'd though it would have, but it was easier to get used to than he thought. He was the one that Rupert wanted to come home to, the only one he ever saw more than once, and that had turned out to be enough.

That, and the millions of dollars.

But tonight Lindsey had actually prepared Rupert's favourite supper. Well, alright, he'd had their personal chef, Simon, prepare it, but he'd been looking forward to a nice evening, thinking that if he was on his best behaviour he could get his lover to buy him that sweet new car he'd been hinting at for the past few months.

And he just wasn't in the mood to sit home alone watching the linguini get cold and wait for Rupert to get back, covered in some other guy's jizz. Fuck, he was being an idiot. He knew that. Thinking like a spoiled little ten year old. What was going on tonight was far from a big deal. Rupert would come home to him, kiss him, promise to buy him something pretty and they'd both know that nothing had changed.

Maybe that was the problem.

"I saw him leave almost an hour ago with someone a whole lot younger and..." he paused, looking Lindsey up and down with a hungry but discerning eye. "Maybe a little thinner than you," Spike continued, grinning.

"You know," Lindsey snapped, pissed off that this bartender, Spike, seemed to know a little too much about his personal life. "If you're tryin' to get into my pants, calling me 'fat' ain't exactly the best way to go about that."

"Hey, I never said you were fat," Spike corrected, backing off slightly, giving Lindsey some space. "And I never said I was tryin' to get into your pants."

Lindsey raised a disbelieving eyebrow and Spike ducked his head, cracking a grin. "Never said I wasn't, either."

Lindsey couldn't but help but let out a short, quiet laugh, before he downed half his drink in one go. "Sorry, stud," he said, not sounding at all like he actually was. "But those cheekbones aren't gonna work on me."

"Oh, so you noticed?" Spike asked, with a sufficiently smug look. The poor son of a bitch never stood a chance. It was sort of cute that he thought he did.

Lindsey finished the rest of his drink and rolled his eyes. What the hell was with this guy? "I told you," he said. "I'm with someone."

"And I told you," Spike said, grabbing the bottle of bourbon from behind the bar and refilling Lindsey's glass. "Not tonight."

"I don't need you to buy my drinks," Lindsey groused, tossing the drink back in one shot despite his words. "I've got plenty of money."

"Well, your sugar daddy's got plenty of money, I'll give you that. And what?" Spike asked, pausing and nodding to another man who'd come up to the bar, and filling his drink order before turning back to Lindsey. "You've gotta sit around all by your lonesome like a good little boywhore while the old man gives someone else a good go round?"

"Fuck off," Was Lindsey's eloquent answer. "I'm not a 'boywhore'."

"Whatever you say, gorgeous. Nother?"

Lindsey paused, unsure how much he should be drinking, knowing that he was already pissed off, thanks to this jackass of a server, and not thinking clearly as it was. "Sure," he decided on after not too much though, and Spike refilled his glass, smiling predatorily as Lindsey drank it down.

"So you're not his whore?"

"No. I'm not." Only he sort of was. And that had never bothered him before. What the hell was it about this guy that made him feel defensive, made him feel like what he was wasn't acceptable?

"And you're free to do whatever you like?" Spike prodded, knowing he didn't have far to push. This one was so close to being his. At least for the next couple of hours.

Lindsey narrowed his eyebrows, looked hard at Spike and pushed his empty glass toward him, nodding at the bottle behind the counter for another. He didn't answer. He couldn't honestly say he was free to do as he liked. He could have lied, but he had a feeling that the blond would see through it, and use the lie against him.

"I'm not interested," he said instead, as Spike again filled his glass. He couldn't afford to be. Not if he wanted to keep the life he'd made for himself enjoying Rupert's house, his bed, his bank account. And yeah, if he was really being honest with himself, Rupert.

"Come home with me," was Spike's answer, apparently not caring, or more probably not believing him.

"I told you…"

"Yeah, yeah," Spike interrupted, waving his hand at Lindsey dismissively. "Not interested. Right. Like the way your sweetie pie wasn't interested in that tight little number he plied with drinks and took off with just before you showed up. I get off at ten. Come home with me."

"No." No. That was the right thing to say. He found that he really wanted to say yes, more than he had to anyone in a long, long time. Spike was hot. Arrogant, sure, but that somehow only made him all the hotter, and the idea of just being with someone, without all the power trips and mind games that went along with being with Rupert was incredibly alluring.

But 'no' was definitely the right answer.

"That wasn't a request," Spike told him, voice suddenly turning hard, losing its playful edge. Maybe that was what Lindsey needed to get him to agree. It was probably what he was used to, after all. "Ten o'clock."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Arrangement

Characters/Pairings: Giles/Lindsey, Lindsey/Spike, Giles/Wes, Giles/others, other slight pairings

Rating: Adult

Summary: AU. Giles is a ridiculously unfaithful wealthy older man, keeping Lindsey around for pleasure and company, but when someone else catches Lindsey's eye, he realises he wants more out of a relationship. Giles has sex with just about everyone. Spike tries to. Wes gets in over his head.

So, let me break it down. Suggardaddy!Giles, bitch!Lindsey, troublemaker!Spike, naïve!Wes. *nods*

Chapter 2

It was half past ten, and Lindsey had spent the previous ten minutes sitting on an unmade sofa bed in the center of Spike's messy one-room apartment, sharing a beer with the blond, as well as one of the fattest joints he'd ever seen, and few sloppy, random kisses between swallows and puffs.

He'd spent the ten minutes before that in a taxi with the other man – who, after Lindsey had gotten a good look at him outside the poor light of the bar, had looked near enough a decade younger than himself, and fuck it all, even cuter than he did in the dark – trying to fend off his wandering hands, and not let himself be jerked off in full view of the driver, who'd none too subtly shifted his rearview mirror to get a better look.

And he'd spent the ten minutes before that watching Spike suck face with someone even younger than he was, who'd stopped them as they were on their way out of Willie's, and he was on his way in. He'd grabbed Spike, grinned, spun him, and ended up pinned to the wall next to the door with Spike's tongue down his throat, and when they'd finished, he'd smiled at Lindsey, kissed him too, quickly, and introduced himself as Xander.

It had been a very strange night, so far.

"Take off your pants," Spike instructed, kissing Lindsey hard, and biting his lower lip.

"I… what?" Lindsey was having a little bit of trouble concentrating, what with all the alcohol he'd consumed at the bar, and the thumb-sized bundle of marijuana he's shared with Spike just a few minutes ago. He knew what he was doing was a bad idea, he knew he shouldn't be there, completely inebriated and sitting on another man's bed, kissing him, enjoying it… and being asked to… "what?"

"Your pants, pet," Spike repeated, chuckling slightly. "Take them off." He knew Lindsey was drunk. And high now, too. And sure, it was probably bad form to take advantage of that in order to get laid, but it wasn't as if Lindsey hadn't known exactly what was going to happen when he decided to come back with him. And he'd been sober, more or less, when he'd made that decision.

"I don't…" Lindsey started, shaking his head, but didn't bother finishing what he was planning on saying, probably even forgot what it was, when he caught sight of Spike's smile, that infuriatingly cocky, sexy smile, and before he knew what he was doing, he was kissing him again.

Well, the kissing was good. So was the feel of Lindsey's hands on his back, his face, his arms. But it was going to feel a hell of a lot better when they didn't have any clothes on, and Spike could get inside that beautiful arse of his. Or get Lindsey inside him. He was good either way.

It wasn't as if he thought Lindsey might represent a prospect for anything long-term. That wasn't even what he was looking for, not with this guy. But he did like the man, based on the dozen or so words they'd ever exchanged, and he was damn nice to look at. He might be fun for a while, if he could convince him to keep coming back.

He reached his hands forward, toward the top of Lindsey's pants, keeping his mouth occupied with the kiss, and gently eased the top button through the hole, groaning as he slowly slid the zipper down, knuckles brushing over the other man's hard cock as he went. Oh, fuck this was gonna be good.

Or, it would have, if Lindsey hadn't jerked away (after a soft gasp and push into Spike's hand – he'd noticed that) and stood up, panting, putting his hands up in front of him like he was trying to talk Spike down from something.

"I can't," he said, shaking his head, trying to focus.

"Can't?" Spike asked, staying where he was, but placing a hand over his own crotch. "Why not? I thought you were free to do as you liked."

Lindsey scowled at the taunt, or tried to anyway, but his head was still swimming. "Yeah, well, we both know that's not fuckin' true, is it?"

Spike just smiled at him, moved his hand slightly, curling his fingers around his own hard cock through his jeans and biting his lip when Lindsey's eyes were drawn down.

"And how the fuck is that, anyway?" Lindsey asked, wondering. "It's not like we advertise what we are. Do I have fuckin' property of Rupert Giles tattooed on my forehead?"

Spike shrugged, not really caring one way or the other about Lindsey's mini identity crisis, but figuring he wasn't going to get anywhere unless he answered. "It's obvious. The fact that he's loaded and you don't work. The way he looks at you, the way you look at him, the way other people flirt with him right in front of you, and he does nothing to discourage them and you just smile." _The way he's been fucking me, on and off, for the last six months_, Spike finished in his own head. That little tidbit probably wasn't going to score him any points.

Spike liked Rupert. He was a nice man, and he played by his own rules, and after he'd found out, over a completely random conversation that Lindsey hadn't been present for, that Spike was interested in taking a writing workshop that he couldn't afford, he'd given him the money for it. So Spike had hit on him.

It didn't take him long, not thirty seconds into his oh so carefully planned seduction, for Rupert to tell him that he had someone, that he had no intentions of leaving him, but that if Spike was interested they could have almost meaningless, and likely completely mindblowing sex.

Spike had agreed readily, and they'd been getting together roughly once a month since then. Up until a couple of weeks ago, when he'd asked Rupert if he wanted to get together after his shift, and he'd smiled politely and told him 'no, thank you' without any explanation at all for ending things.

Spike had been completely okay with it. It wasn't like he hadn't seen it coming. If he had someone like Lindsey at home waiting for him he wouldn't be wasting too much time with other people either.

"But he's not here right now. And he doesn't know you are. So what say we take those sodding pants of yours off, and let's fuck."

"I can't," Lindsey said again, shaking his head, some sense of reality coming back to him. He really, really wanted to, wanted to take advantage of what Spike was offering, wanted to be with someone he was attracted to, wanted to stop thinking about Rupert, wanted to have fun for a little while and pretend he wasn't owned.

But he was. He belonged to Rupert, and he liked it that way, and what the fuck had he been thinking even letting things go this far?

"What's the matter? Guilty conscience all of a sudden? You know what he's doing tonight. Why can't you do the same?"

"He'll know," Lindsey said, taking a half a step back as Spike scooched forward on the bed, reaching out to touch Lindsey's thigh.

"How will he know?" Spike asked, standing up and moving closer to Lindsey again. He slowly slid his arms around the larger man, taking the time to savour the feeling of his flesh, his muscle, under his t-shirt as his hands moved from Lindsey's sides to his back, and further down.

Lindsey groaned, eyelids fluttering shut, and he couldn't help but lean into the touch just a little bit, tilt his neck to give Spike access as the blond nuzzled him, kissing and nipping along the skin.

What they'd done so far, the drinking the flirting, even the kissing – that was all something that Lindsey would be punished for, sure, but he hadn't gone so far that Rupert wouldn't be able to get over it, to forgive it, to not cut Lindsey off and send him packing.

He knew he had better stop this, now, before something happened that Rupert wouldn't forgive.

"He'll know," Lindsey said, more firmly this time, and pushed Spike away to mutual sighs of disappointment and frustration. And he _would_ know. Because Lindsey was a terrible liar, and Rupert could read him easily, had a lot of practice. He'd know that something had happened as it was, know Lindsey had done something wrong, something he felt guilty about, even if it hadn't gone too far.

"Pussy," Spike snorted, shaking his head and stepping back. He bent down to pick up his package of cigarettes off the rocky metal folding table that sat at one end of the sofabed, and held it to his mouth, grabbing one between his teeth and pulling it out in a gesture that Lindsey thought was much sexier than in had any right to be, and lit it up, heading into the kitchen section of the small room.

"I mean, seriously," he continued, opening the fridge and grabbing out two more beers, twisting the caps off, and coming back, handing one of them to Lindsey. "Do you even have a cock? Or do you just sit around the house all day in your frilly apron, waiting for the Viagra to kick in so the old man can fuck your hole?"

"Better than sittin' around here all day, placing bets with myself on whether it'll be the rats or the cockroaches that finish off that slice of pizza on the floor there that looks like it's about a month old. Fuck, have even heard of a trash can? Or a vacuum cleaner?"

"Yeah, sorry about the state of things," Spike snapped back. "But I lost the penthouse suite fully equipped with a maid and chef, when I stopped whoring myself out."

Lindsey frowned, wondering exactly how Spike guessed that so accurately, but shook it off. It was probably pretty obvious. With all the money he had, it wasn't too likely that Rupert would be doing any of his own chores. He'd have people for that.

"You're a fucking asshole, you know that?" Lindsey asked, almost casually, and slightly wondrous, as if he'd just realised that he was, indeed, an asshole. "Why the hell did I ever decide to come back here with you?"

Spike smirked at him, taking a long, slow swallow of his beer, and watching as Lindsey did the same. "Cause you just can't resist my hot, tight, little body," he answered, sliding one hand, fingers spread and palm flat, down his chest and stomach, coming to rest just above his groin.

Lindsey chuckled slightly and shook his head, some of his animosity draining away. Spike probably wasn't really an asshole, but they were both sexually worked up, and the possibility for release had just been taken away, by Lindsey, and he could understand Spike's lashing out. Fuck, Lindsey was pissed off too. "Watch me," he said, still smiling.

"Fuck, Lindsey," Spike said, resisting the urge to move closer, press his body against Lindsey's. "Want you, pet."

Lindsey took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, forcing himself to remember exactly what he'd be risking if he went through with this. "I'd better go."

***

Spike had let him go, hadn't even argued with him about it, hadn't even tried to kiss him goodbye, touch him at all after he'd said he wanted to go, and Lindsey almost wished he had. He had no intention of staying, of actually fucking him, but it would have been nice to be wanted enough for the idiot to fight a little for him. Oh well. He was better off.

He'd called a taxi from a payphone, not wanting to use his cell, because the bill went to Rupert, and he didn't want to leave any trail that could possibly be followed if his lover got curious about where he'd been tonight. The taxi had come, and dropped him off at home just after eleven o'clock. It wasn't even that late. Maybe Rupert wasn't even home yet. For once, he hoped the older man was interested enough in his latest plaything to be up for two or three rounds.

"And where have you been, dearest?" Rupert's voice asked from the darkened living room as Lindsey quietly opened the door, and stepped inside.

Lindsey jumped, but hopefully not enough to be noticed, and breathed out a steadying breath, shutting the door behind him and moving further inside. "Hey," he said, smiling a somewhat uncomfortable smile, and took his jacket and shoes off, walking into the kitchen and turning on the low-watt over-the-stove light, so he could see something.

"Drink?" he asked, and waited for Rupert to shake his had and say 'no, thank you,' holding up the half filled glass in his right hand, before he opened the fridge. He instinctively reached out for a bottle of beer, but before his fingers touched the brown glass he remembered that beer had been a key player in getting him into trouble that night, and he probably didn't need any more.

He chose a bottle of water instead.

"Well, when you called to say you were going to be late," Lindsey started, slowly moving into the living room and sitting down on the couch. He didn't sit next to Rupert, where he usually would have, didn't immediately kiss him, smile at him, flirt with him and offer him sex in exchange for some pretty little trinket that had caught his eye. He sat on the opposite end of the couch and avoided eye contact, instead concentrating on his drink of water.

Fuck. Yeah, he was the world's worst liar, incapable of keeping any kind of secret, acting like a complete and utter moron whenever he had something to hide. But the weird thing was, around anybody else he could lie his ass off, and not bat an eyelash. There was just something about Rupert that made him… he couldn't even really say. Not quite nervous, not quite afraid. Just… honest.

"I decided to head out for a drink. Just went to Willie's, had a few beers. Thought about you," he finished, cracking a small smile, going for flirtatious but probably hitting somewhere near pained.

"Oh really?" Rupert asked, placing his drink down on the coffee table. He'd filled it when he'd gotten home over thirty minutes ago, to an empty house, but hadn't actually drunk any of it. He'd been sitting on the couch, enjoying the quiet, the dark, and waiting for Lindsey to get home. "Just sat there at the bar, all by your self?"

It wasn't as if Lindsey was expected to stay at home all the time, waiting for Rupert to return and satisfy his every whim. He was free to come and go as he pleased, to get out, have friends, have fun. It was expected of him, actually. Rupert knew from first hand experience that if someone felt trapped they would inevitably make a run for it the first chance they got, and he didn't want that to happen with Lindsey.

The boy meant a great deal to him, and he didn't want to be the cause, directly or indirectly, of his unhappiness, or of his leaving.

"Yeah," Lindsey answered, with a single nod and another swig of water. "I missed you, baby," he said, turning his head to look at Rupert and managing a genuine grin, nibbling on his lower lip. That was the truth. He _had_ missed him. "I just wanted to go somewhere that reminded me of you."

"And the apartment we share wasn't enough of a reminder?" Ordinarily he wouldn't mind Lindsey going out to Willie's on his own, wouldn't even think anything of it most days, but his lover's voice, his eyes, his actions, the way he carried himself were a hell of a lot more telling than even the young man knew. And from the second he walked through the door tonight, jumping and shaking at the sound of his voice, when he'd normally cast him a seductive grin and come over to straddle his lap, Rupert had known that something was up.

"I just wanted to get out."

"I can understand that, dearest," Rupert told him, turning slightly so that his body was angled toward Lindsey, his back resting in the corner of the couch. "And I'm not upset. Why are you so jumpy tonight?" He stretched out his arm, palm facing up, toward Lindsey, smiling gently at him, inviting him closer without saying a word.

"I'm not," Lindsey denied, moving a little closer to Rupert and putting a hand in his lover's offered one. "I'm just… tired."

"Hmmm." That was most certainly a lie. He'd obviously done something he knew he shouldn't. Probably had a drink with someone, flirted, perhaps even shared a few forbidden touches. "I wonder," he mused, rubbing his thumb over the back of Lindsey's hand. "What did you tell all the boys that asked you to go home with them, while you were sitting there all by your self, thinking of me?"

Lindsey squeezed his hand slightly around Rupert's and ducked his head, looking up at him from lowered lashes, doing his best to calm his nerves and get himself back into the lazy, seductive frame of mind he was usually in around Rupert.

"Just told them I was hopelessly in love with someone a million times better than they were, and they could just push off." Lindsey tried for a cocky grin, and licked his lips, hoping his lover would buy it, or at the very least, let it go.

"Ah," Rupert smiled, giving Lindsey's hand a gentle squeeze and letting go. "So you lied."

Lindsey returned the smile, pulling his hand back awkwardly, placing it on the back of the couch. "You know me."

"Yes," Rupert agreed. "I do."

His eyes were suddenly hard, focused intently on Lindsey, and Lindsey felt his heart rate skyrocket, knowing in that moment that Rupert knew exactly what he'd been doing, and probably who he'd been doing it with. It was stupid, he knew. His lover wasn't psychic, couldn't possibly know every detail, but Lindsey knew he was an open book when it came to Rupert, and if he wanted to make it out of this situation with his head still attached to his neck he'd better at least give the older man a little bit of the truth. It would be easier to hide the lies that way.

"Well," he admitted, still trying to play it cool, pushing back into the plush cushions to get comfortable. "I did talk with the bartender a little."

"Spike?" Rupert asked, having been at Willie's himself that night, and knowing that the blond was working. "And what did you two chat about?" He honestly wouldn't put it past Spike to try something with Lindsey, even though he knew that Rupert had declared Lindsey off limits to anyone but him. Although he did trust Lindsey enough to know that he wouldn't let anything happen between them.

"Spike?" Lindsey repeated the name, sitting up a little bit straighter. "How do you know his name?" Sure, they'd both seen him before, plenty of times, but they'd never really spoken with him, and if Lindsey didn't know his name he couldn't imagine how Rupert would. Or… maybe he could.

"Do you really want me to tell you?" Rupert asked, cocking his head, his voice full of a humour that Lindsey was having a hard time sharing.

"You're fucking kidding me!" he said, almost shouting, and sitting up completely straight, his back rigid. "You fucked him? Rupert… shit!" He really hadn't seen that coming. And now he felt like an even bigger idiot. Spike was probably only hitting on to try to get back at Rupert for using him and breaking his heart or some shit, and he'd fallen for it and now Rupert knew something, or at least suspected, and… fuck.

"What's the problem, dearest?" Rupert asked, voice still irritatingly calm, face passive. "You don't usually get so worked up over this kind of thing. What's so special about Spike?" He was almost certain now that the bleached blond was the reason that Lindsey was so nervous tonight, and he really hoped that whatever had happened, Lindsey had promptly put an end to.

"He's our fucking bartender, Rupert," Lindsey said, almost slamming his bottle of water down on the table, some of the liquid sloshing up over the side. He ignored the older man's chastising look for all of two seconds before he sighed and rolled his eyes, wiping the mess up with his sleeve. "Every fucking time we've been to that bar, he's been fucking staring at me, knowing what I am, knowing that he's fucked my boyfriend, laughing at me, cause I didn't fuckin' know!"

"Yes," Rupert agreed. "He knows exactly what you are. Most people do. But I assure you darling, he's not laughing. I daresay he's quite envious. And…" he paused looking at Lindsey and smirking, getting a rather large kick out that statement. "Boyfriend?"

"Fuck off," Lindsey shot, looking away briefly, trying not to feel so monumentally stupid. "You know what I meant."

"Yes, I believe I do."

"Just… wipe that fuckin' smug look off your face." Oh, shit what the hell was he saying? Rupert could do as he liked, say what he liked, treat Lindsey how he liked, and Lindsey was acting like a spoiled little brat, throwing a hissy fit because something hadn't gone his way. He knew that, and yet he couldn't seem to stop. "And call up your good friend _Spike_ – seriously what kind of name is that, anyway -" he wondered out loud, feeling ridiculously bitter, "if Ethan's nephew hasn't worn you out, and you want any more sex tonight, cause I'm not in the mood."

He stood up and snatched his half drunk bottle of water from the table, fighting the wave of dizziness left over from the pot and the beer, but managed to maintain his balance. "I'm gonna sleep in my room tonight," he said, scowling, and turned to head down the hall.

Lindsey had his own room, but it was rarely used. He and Rupert liked to sleep together, usually too tired to move after a good round of sex, but even when they hadn't been fucking they'd gotten into the habit of just sleeping together, of having each other there to hold and kiss goodnight and wake up to.

Rupert had insisted on keeping a room as 'Lindsey's', though, thinking that if they had separate bedrooms, officially, then there was no confusion and they were officially not an item. Not that Lindsey could have really made that mistake.

"Lindsey," Rupert called out, voice almost dangerously quiet, as he calmly watched Lindsey head down the hall.

Lindsey stopped and turned around, but didn't say anything. There was nothing he could say, really. He knew he was acting foolish.

"Watch yourself," he warned, low and threatening. "And I'm not just talking about this ridiculous little temper tantrum. I'm not in the mood to fuck right now, but if I was, you'd damn well indulge me. That's what you're here for. And if you think I don't know what you've been up to tonight, you're much stupider than I thought."

Actually, he didn't think Lindsey was stupid at all, and he knew he was feeling terrible about whatever the hell he'd done. That was really the only explanation for him acting out the way he was. He had no proof that Lindsey had been fooling around of course, just a feeling, but his feelings were rarely wrong. And it never hurt to remind Lindsey of how things worked.

"I won't tolerate it, you know that. Think very carefully about exactly what you do the next time you're 'missing' me. Don't force my hand, Lindsey." He didn't need to tell him what would happen. Lindsey already knew.

"Yeah, fine," Lindsey answered tightly, and turned again, walking into his own bedroom and closing the door behind him. And that lack of denial was all the proof Rupert needed that Lindsey had acted unfaithfully.

That had been fucking close, but it could have turned out a hell of a lot worse. Lindsey was definitely gong to take Rupert's advice, and think very carefully before he was in a position to fuck things up again. It just wasn't worth it.

Neither Lindsey nor Rupert slept very well that night.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Arrangement

Characters/Pairings: Giles/Lindsey, Lindsey/Spike, Giles/Wes, Giles/others, other slight pairings

Rating: Adult

Summary: Giles is a ridiculously unfaithful wealthy older man, keeping Lindsey around for pleasure and company, but when someone else catches Lindsey's eye, he realises he wants more out of a relationship. Giles has sex with just about everyone. Spike tries to. Wes gets in over his head.

So, let me break it down. Suggardaddy!Giles, bitch!Lindsey, troublemaker!Spike, naïve!Wes. *nods*

***

Chapter 3

Rupert had been out. He hadn't planned on going out that day. He'd wanted to stay home, make it up to Lindsey for having to go out the day before, and let Lindsey give him a long, leisurely blowjob as he read some silly horror novel, 'The Barn', it was called, that he wouldn't let anyone but Lindsey know that he actually enjoyed. And then perhaps watch his lover fuck himself on his favourite dildo and stroke himself to orgasm. That was always fun.

But after their argument the previous night, Rupert's sinking realisation that Lindsey had been unfaithful (though he suspected it hadn't gone far, and he was certain that Lindsey was feeling horrible about it), and Lindsey's subsequent behaviour that morning, Rupert hadn't wanted to stick around.

Lindsey had been avoiding him all morning, staying mostly in his bedroom, coming out only to relieve himself and pour a glass of orange juice at around half nine. He'd jumped when the telephone rang, almost spilling his juice, and after a quick glance at Rupert he'd practically run back into his bedroom. A sure sign that he was feeling guilty over something.

He hadn't even bothered to sit down for lunch when Simon had knocked on his door to tell him it was ready, and had offered only a grunt of acknowledgement when Rupert told him he was going out. He hadn't asked where he was going, or when the older man would be back, and Rupert hadn't volunteered any information.

He honestly hadn't known where he was going, just that he wanted to get away from Lindsey for a little while, get away from the situation that he felt was slightly beyond his control. He hated not being in control, but when Lindsey got in a snit like this, and no, this wasn't the first time, Rupert always found it was best to let him cool down a little bit before he dealt with him, or any punishment would go largely over his head.

It _was_ the first time that Lindsey had cheated on him, however, and Rupert had a hard time fighting the urge to smack that pretty little face of his, and fuck him until he bled, until he promised to never do it again.

But that would be showing too much weakness, showing that he cared more about Lindsey than he pretended to. He should really just end this right now. Ask Lindsey to leave without getting upset. Tell him 'thanks for the past four years, it's been fun, but you broke my rules and now it's over'. Smile and kiss him and tell him 'good luck'.

But he wouldn't. Not yet. He liked having Lindsey around, and if there was chance he could nip this whole thing in the bud before any real damage was done, before Lindsey took things too far with someone else, and remind him that his place was in Rupert's bed alone, he had to try. Try to punish him without letting on how upset he actually was, and drive any further notions of infidelity from his mind.

He just wasn't sure how to go about that.

***

When Lindsey heard the door close behind Rupert, heard Ana Louisa turn on the washing machine down the hall and heard Simon tell him he was going to market for some things for supper, he came out of his room.

He felt like an idiot, hiding from his lover like that, being a complete jackass for next to no reason. He knew it made him look guilty. Hell, he _was_ guilty. He didn't think Rupert knew that, exactly, although he sure as hell knew something was up, and the way Lindsey was acting certainly didn't help.

He knew he'd fucked up with Spike. He'd known it even before he agreed to go home with him, but there had just been something about him. Fuck, it wasn't as if he hadn't been attracted to other people since he'd been with Rupert. It wasn't even like he'd never had a fantasy, never wished he could act on his desires, just this once, but he never, ever had.

He took the older man very seriously when he told Lindsey that any act of indiscretion would result in immediate dismissal.

And it wasn't even that Spike was just so attractive he couldn't keep his hands to himself. No, it was more to do with what Spike represented: the freedom to do whatever he wanted, to take, to say no, to do things his way. Rupert indulged him sometimes, let him choose the position, take the lead, even turn the other man down on occasion, but Lindsey was never allowed to top. He could never push, never be rough, never just take what he wanted.

And really, that was okay. He was happy in his life with Rupert, for the most part. But Spike seemed to bring something out in him that he'd thought he'd forgotten about. Still, he ultimately hadn't been willing to risk what he had for a cheap thrill, and now he just wanted things to go back to normal.

He needed to confess what he'd done, accept whatever punishment Rupert gave him, tell him he was sorry and beg him not to end things. He was pretty sure his lover would give him another chance. He'd realised his mistake and ended things before anything had really happened, and Rupert was reasonable, if strict.

Lindsey hoped so, anyway. He had no idea what he'd do if he were suddenly on his own. Sure, he wasn't a moron, he had brains and skills and could find work easily to support himself, and live like most people did. He could go back to law school (he'd dropped out with only a year to go once he'd moved in with Rupert) and become a lawyer, like he'd thought he'd wanted once. But he didn't want to. He wanted his neat little gadgets, fast cars, pretty things, nice house. And he didn't want to have to do anything for it but look pretty and fuck.

Well, acting normal was probably a good thing, and whenever Rupert got home from wherever he was, Lindsey was going to do just that.

***

Lindsey heard the key in the lock and shot up from where he was sitting, at the kitchen table, so quickly and violently that he knocked his knee into the underside of it, causing the whole thing to shake, and his bottle of beer to fall over, spilling slightly onto the table before he manage to right it.

"Fuck," he cursed, quietly, wincing at the pain in his knee and reaching for a kitchen towel to wipe up the mess. "Nice job acting normal so far. Moron," he whispered, chastising himself.

He cleaned up the spill quickly, tossing the towel on the kitchen counter and snatching up the glass of scotch that he'd already poured, and left sitting next to the sink so that it would be ready when Rupert got home.

He held the glass steady in his hand and pasted on his sexiest face, a little bit of a smile, not-quite-shy, downcast eyes, and as much heat as he could muster, despite the lingering feeling of a lead ball in his stomach. They would get past this, Lindsey told himself, and soon. Rupert could never stay mad at him for long. Not when he was being a good little boy, doing exactly what was expected of him, and not after Lindsey kissed him, his most submissive kiss, and stripped, offering himself up for Rupert's pleasure.

That's what he did every time they had an argument. Hell, that's what he did most days they _hadn't_ been arguing, too, but it always worked.

He rounded the corner to the entrance hallway, biting his lower lip slightly, knowing his lover liked that, holding out the glass… and stopped, coquettish smile turning into an expression of slight embarrassment, then confusion, then anger.

Rupert wasn't alone. And the man he was currently helping out of his jacket, with a little too much intimacy, if Lindsey could even call him a man, he looked so damn young, twenty maybe, was so damn pretty that Lindsey wanted to clock him.

Yeah, he got the message. Rupert could fuck whoever he wanted. Lindsey wasn't as young and hot and built as he used to be, and there were plenty of other guys out there who would be happy to take his place if he didn't behave himself. But fuck, Rupert had never brought one of them home before. At least not that Lindsey knew about, and he certainly hadn't shown off one his dates to Lindsey before.

That hurt.

Still, there was nothing he could really do about it, so he plastered the false smile back on his face and leant against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other and extending the arm holding Rupert's scotch. "Drink?"

"Lindsey," Giles greeted, smiling what seemed to be a genuine smile. It wasn't, though. "I'm glad you're here," he said, putting the jacket he was holding away in the closet. "I'd like you to meet someone."

"That's a first," Lindsey mumbled, not quite loud enough for anyone else to hear, but Rupert frowned disapprovingly at him anyway, and stepped further into the apartment, leading the other man by the arm.

"This is Liam," Rupert said, looking pointedly at Lindsey, watching him carefully for any sign that he was less than pleased.

Lindsey didn't disappoint. His jaw tightened, ticking in the way that only someone looking very closely and knowing him very well could have picked up on, but Rupert saw it. Good.

Lindsey couldn't believe this. He really didn't care that his lover had fucked this guy, wouldn't be thrilled if he did it again, but it wouldn't be the end of the world, either. But to have Rupert bring him here, to rub Lindsey's face in it, to fuck him again in their own goddamn house? He was doing this on purpose. Being a jerk, to get back at Lindsey for being one.

And just about everything inside him wanted to scream at him, to tell him to fuck off, and that he wasn't being fair. Tell him that he was sorry about what he'd done, how he'd acted, and ask his lover to stop this, to send this Liam guy home, and just forgive him.

But they had a guest, and said guest no doubt knew what Lindsey's official capacity in this house was, and Lindsey didn't want to make an idiot of himself by acting like a jealous, jilted lover. He'd just wait it out, speak with Rupert afterward. If this was what his lover needed to do to teach him some sort of lesson, then Lindsey would try to learn it, and things would be okay again.

"Nice to meet you," Lindsey said, still forcing his smile, but trying to make his voice sound warm, welcoming, and of course sexy as hell, in a slightly threatening way. "Sorry, wasn't expectin' company," he said, nodding at the single glass of drink he was holding. "Don't mean to be rude. What do you drink, Liam?"

"It's nice to meet you too, Lindsey. I've heard a lot about you," Liam answered, feeling just a little bit awkward that he was standing face to face with the boyfriend of the guy he'd let fuck him to land this commercial gig. It wasn't like he made a habit of sleeping around to enhance his career, and he'd felt a little weird about it, but Rupert had been nice, and sweet, and funny, and sexy, in completely authoritative way that had made Liam put the moves on him in that little bar they'd been in.

Rupert had told him that it was unnecessary, that he didn't need to sleep with him in order to win his favour, that even if he did, he wouldn't guarantee that he had the part. Liam had met with a few talent agents, directors of small scale projects, and he found Rupert's honesty refreshing. He knew he had no idea how show business worked, didn't care, and would just have soon not been at that meeting with Liam at all.

But Liam had been just a little bit drunk, and Rupert had looked very good, and Liam had decided to take that chance.

"Uh…" he continued, getting his thoughts back on track at Lindsey's amused expression, and slightly impatient raise of his eyebrow. "Amaretto?"

Lindsey tried unsuccessfully to stifle a snort of amusement, and handed the glass of scotch to Rupert, who shot him a disproving look. "You got it, big guy," Lindsey answered with some amusement and turned to head into the kitchen to get him his drink. That actually made Lindsey feel a little better about things. There was no way in hell Rupert would waste his time on someone who ordered an amaretto.

He managed to find some, toward the back of the liquor cupboard. They usually only got it out when a woman was visiting, and that wasn't all that often. He filled a glass with the stuff, then after a second's thought filled another for himself, of the same scotch he'd given Rupert.

He didn't usually drink it, but he figured some show of solidarity was called for in this instance. It couldn't hurt to let Liam know that just because Rupert had fucked him, didn't mean he meant anything to him. He was the loser drinking amaretto in a room full of men drinking scotch.

When he was finished he made his way into the living room, where he'd heard Rupert suggest that he and Liam sit down, and he handed Liam his drink with a grin. He'd had to fake it.

Rupert and Liam were sitting on the couch together, in the center of it, thighs touching, smiling at each other, with Rupert's arm placed conveniently over the back of the couch, just waiting for Liam to lean back and make contact.

Lindsey went to sit on the chair. It was his chair anyway, or so he liked to think of it. Rupert had bought it after they'd been out shopping for new bedroom furniture, and Lindsey had found it in the shop, and fallen in love with it. Rupert thought it was hideous, but couldn't argue how comfortable it was, and two days later it had shown up at the door.

"Thank you, darling," Rupert said, before Liam had a chance to say it himself, and watching Lindsey as he sat down, trying to suss out his reaction, as ever. "As I mentioned the other day, Ethan thinks that his nephew here would be perfect for our new round of adverts. I was mostly indifferent at first, but after our meeting yesterday, Liam has convinced me that he's the man for the job."

He turned a playful eye to Liam as he finished, pressing his tight tighter against the young man's, remembering exactly what had happened the previous night. He hadn't agreed to give him the job because he'd slept with him, he'd actually seemed quite perfect, but he couldn't see any harm in letting either of the boys think that sex was the reason he'd been cast.

Lindsey's face fell for only a fraction of a second before he picked it back up again and acted like he didn't mind, but Rupert knew better. And he felt like a dick. He didn't want to hurt Lindsey, really he didn't, but this was the only thing he could think of, the only suitable punishment for what Lindsey had done.

If he could just pretend that what Lindsey did didn't really matter to him, that Lindsey didn't really matter, if he could just not mention it, and instead sleep with a great deal of other people, parade them right in from of Lindsey, make him feel threatened, remind him that his place in Rupert's life wasn't a guarantee, then Lindsey would snap out of whatever unacceptable mindspace he was in, start behaving like he should.

He knew it was stupid, low, hurtful, but psychological punishment was really the only type that would work with Lindsey. He usually just got off on the physical kind. He hid a smile and a tight groan behind a sip of his drink, thinking about how very much Lindsey got off on physical punishment.

"Well, that's just great, isn't it?" Lindsey commented, his grin slipping from playful to snide, and taking a drink of his own. Shit. He'd forgotten how much he didn't like scotch. "Congratulations, Liam. I guess we'll be seeing a lot more of you." He fought the urge to squeeze his first hard around his glass until it cracked.

"Actually," Liam said, moving a little further away from Rupert, not being able to help but notice the tension in the air. "Not after tonight. Rupert already told me that he's not really into anything do to with the company, they just need his opinion on major changes. And after we go through my contract tonight, I'll probably only see either of you at the Christmas party." He wanted to smile, to reassure Lindsey somehow, but he just didn't have it in him. Instead he kept his face neutral, purposefully not touching Rupert, and tried his best not to be threatening.

He knew how he'd feel if his boyfriend brought home someone he was sleeping with.

"Thank you, Lindsey," Rupert said, turning to him, a dismal. It was true, what the man had said. Rupert had made it clear that they wouldn't be continuing their physical relationship, probably wouldn't ever see each other again, because he simply wasn't interested, and also because he already had someone at home. But Lindsey didn't need to hear that. "As Liam said, we need to talk about his contract. You can wait in your room. You seem to like it there."

Lindsey had never known Rupert to talk about anybody's contract, not even the new CEO they'd hired a year ago, and he couldn't imagine they'd be doing very much talking tonight. And Rupert must have known that Lindsey would know that. Again he wanted to get angry, but again, he knew better.

"You know, I think maybe I'll just go out for a while," he suggested, really not wanting to be around for this, for his lover fucking someone else. Not that he was jealous. Liam might be pretty, but he could tell that Rupert wasn't really interested. "That way I won't be around to disturb the two of you, while you… talk about contracts."

"I said," Rupert insisted, his voice taking on that hard edge that Lindsey knew not to bother arguing with. "That you could wait in your room."

Lindsey stood up and looked at Rupert for long seconds, before letting his gaze slip to Liam and then back. "Sure," he said, with resigned snort. "I'll be there if you need me."

***

"Does he know?" Liam asked half an hour later after Rupert had spread some sort of contract out in front of him, admitting that he didn't know anything about it, and neither did Liam, and that they'd really have to let their lawyers and agents work out the details. Rupert hadn't really invited him there to talk about business.

"Hmm?" Rupert asked. He still had his arm around the back of the couch, and Liam was leaning against it now, giving him every opportunity to take advantage. He let his fingers drift forward, tickling over Liam's neck, his shoulder. "Does who know? About what?"

Liam sighed in pleasure and closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly to allow Rupert better access. This isn't why he'd come, but he knew he was going to have a hard time turning it down. "Your boyfriend," he said, near breathless and moaning. Shit, but this guy was good. Knew exactly how to touch him, how to make him want. "Does he know we're fucking?"

"We're not fucking, pretty little thing," Rupert corrected, gripping his neck tightly and yanking him forward, pressing an aggressive kiss to his lips. "We fucked. Once. He's the one I go back to."

Liam nodded, somewhat absently, knowing that he really should have known that, he did know that, and it wasn't surprising or hurtful in the least. He'd done what he needed to do for his career, and Rupert had never made a secret of already being spoken for. "Right. Yeah, of course. Just… just it seemed like he knew what we did."

"And?" Rupert asked, not quite getting his point. Of course he did. Rupert had never hid anything from anyone. He was nothing if not brutally honest in his intentions, most of the time, and he really didn't see how this could pose a problem.

"Well, if you don't have a problem with it, I sure don't," Liam said, opening his mouth for another kiss. If Lindsey couldn't do enough to keep his man faithful, that wasn't Liam's fault. He was just going to enjoy the luxury's he was afforded.

"That's very good to hear, pretty," Rupert told him, pushing him back slightly. He really wasn't interested in kissing. Or fucking for that matter. But he needed to give Lindsey a reason to be nervous, to keep him in line. "Suck my dick," he commanded, with his typical air of arrogance, pushing back into the cushions and spreading his legs.

"Fuck," Liam groaned, desire coursing through him at the command, reaching his hands forward to undo the older man's pants.

"Wait," Rupert said, placing his hands over Liam's, stopping him. "I won't fuck you. I won't touch you. I won't make any effort to bring you off at all. You're welcome to see to yourself as you suck me, if you choose. But once I'm finished, this will be the end. If I see you again, outside of truly official business, I'll have you fired. Clear?"

He wanted to make sure that Lindsey was firmly in his place, but he didn't really want to hurt him, so after tonight he'd need to make sure that Liam disappeared from their lives.

Liam just moaned, deep in his throat, too turned on to speak, and dropped to his knees, opening Rupert's zipper and taking his erection into his mouth. Yeah, that was clear. And more than that, it was okay. He really had no interest in seeing the man ever again, but there was something about his authority that made Liam unable to do anything but whatever he wanted. And he liked it.

Liam set up a rhythm, with Rupert's help. Rupert might have made a show of how great the blowjob was, and Liam might have squeaked and keened and groaned around Rupert's cock, his own getting hard in his pants as he opened his mouth wider and swallowed.

Liam lost himself in the action, not bothering to care about what it meant, just knowing that it felt good, that he felt good, that he was getting off on making someone else get off.

"Fuck! Liam!" Rupert, gasped, panting, and tightened his hand around the boy's hair, a little shaggy but nowhere near as long or convenient as Lindsey's. "So good."

He jerked his hips forward, pressing the tip of his dick to the back of Liam's throat, and let out a shaky breath, leaning back. Shit. He really didn't want to get off like this. Hadn't even wanted it to get this far. He wanted to have a little something left after Liam was gone, to give to Lindsey, to reinforce his place.

"Shit!"

Lindsey heard the mumbled curses and moans, letting him know exactly what was going on in the other room, though he wasn't at all surprised. He still couldn't help but poke his head out, look down the hall to the living room and try to see what was going on. He saw Rupert, sitting on the couch, with his dick so far down Liam's throat that he wouldn't be surprised if he never saw it again.

He looked at Rupert, wanting to look away, to head back into his room, and just wait until it was over, but he couldn't. He kept Rupert's eyes, not trying to hide his hurt, knowing that he couldn't anyway, and gripped the doorjam tighter, wishing this whole thing over.

"Enough," Rupert said, eyes locking on Lindsey's, and gritting his teeth and clamping his fist down on Liam's shoulder, forcing him to stop. "I won't require any further services tonight, Liam."

Liam frowned, confused and pulled his mouth back, licking his lips and shaking his head. He hadn't even come yet, hand still on his own hard cock, halfway to ecstasy. "Sure," he said, pulling back, feeling like he'd give about anything to be able to come. He didn't really have a choice, though. This was Rupert's game. He'd just have to head into the nearest nightclub and nail the first person he saw into the wall.

"Yeah, okay, sure," he said again, standing up, licking his tongue over his lips, trying to rid them of all traces of Rupert's fluids. What the hell were you supposed to say to someone at a time like this? "Thank you." Yeah, probably not that.

"Don't mention it, darling. Really," Rupert said, half warning, and smiled, cocking his head back toward the door. "You can see yourself out. You'll understand if I don't stand up," he said, grinning and glancing down at his lap, to his hard cock, glistening with Liam's saliva sticking out from his pants.

Liam smiled, somewhat embarrassed as he realised his own erection was still sticking up proudly, red and demanding release. He caught sight of Lindsey standing in the hallway out of the corner of his eye, peaking around the corner, watching them, and he groaned a piteous groan of humiliation when the other man cracked a grin and folded his arms over his chest, watching him stuff his hardness back into his pants with a wince.

"Goodbye, Liam," Rupert said, a gentle suggestion to hurry the hell up and get out. Lindsey really didn't need to see any more of this. He was looking sorry enough for his little tantrum the night before.

"Right," Liam said, zipping up his pants and nodding. "I'll…" he was going to say 'see you', but he probably wouldn't. "Bye," finished instead, taking a few steps toward the door and stopping. He thought about turning around to say goodbye to Lindsey as well, but 'hey, thanks for not getting pissed off about me getting fucked by your boyfriend and then sucking his dick right in front of you' would sound pretty terrible. Instead he started moving again and saw himself out, as Rupert suggested.

Rupert was somewhat relieved to see him go, glad that this was over and very much looking forward to being with Lindsey tonight. He didn't care about Liam. Not in the least.

He cared about Lindsey. The man in the hallway, that had stood by and watched as his lover's latest fuck thing had been dismissed in the middle of blowing him. He'd been behaving himself extremely well tonight, even under such difficult circumstances, but Rupert felt the need to make it just a little more difficult before the night was over.

Lindsey was the only one that mattered to him, the only one he truly wanted, and they both knew that. That didn't mean Rupert wasn't going to continue to make him work for the privilege.

"Come here, Lindsey," he commanded softly when the door had shut behind his guest.

Lindsey pushed himself off the wall, his casual pose turning slightly more rigid, but he did as he was instructed and walked to his lover, stopping in front of him and standing, waiting, for further instruction.

"How are you doing, dearest?" Rupert asked, looking up at him, his face the perfect picture of innocent concern.

What the hell? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? _How was he doing_? Just fuckin' swell, thanks! How the fuck did Rupert think he was doing? Ass. "Fine." There was a time when he would have been fine, watching his lover with someone else. He was still fine knowing that he fucked around, as long as he didn't know the details, but for some reason, seeing it hurt a lot more than he thought it would have.

"I didn't want you to have to see that," Rupert continued, sounding apologetic. He actually really hadn't wanted Lindsey to see it, but he didn't see that he had much of an alternative. Lindsey had to realise that acting up wasn't acceptable, and if he couldn't play by the rules there were others out there that would be happy to.

Lindsey snorted at that. "Well, then maybe you shouldn't have come back here to get your knob polished, and made me stay ten fucking feet away while you were doing it!"

"I do what I like, boy," Rupert snapped, his voice taking on a darker edge. "And if you're unhappy with it, you keep your mouth shut, or you leave."

"Sir, yes sir," Lindsey mumbled, tone snide, and gave a mocking salute. He knew he was really pushing too much, and if he knew what was good for him, he'd just let this all go and start acting normal again. Yes, that's exactly what he was going to do.

"Sorry," he said, eyes falling to the floor, at Rupert's outraged glare.

"Take your clothes off, Lindsey. And bend over the coffee table."

Lindsey did so without hesitating. He was half-tempted to do what he'd done last night, and tell his lover to look elsewhere because he wasn't interested, but the truth was, he _was_ interested. He loved getting fucked by Rupert, loved to touch him, to be touched by him, and if he was honest with himself, he really needed some validation at the moment, to know that he was wanted back.

Rupert got up off the couch and knelt down behind Lindsey, gripping his hip hard in one hand and lining his cock up with Lindsey's hole with the other. "I'm afraid all of that beautiful young man's spit has dried up, Lindsey," Rupert told him, pushing the tip of his erection inside just the slightest bit, and pulling it out again. "So this will probably smart a little."

Lindsey cried out in the next second as Rupert pushed inside him, hard and brutal, in one powerful stroke that was much more vicious than anything they usually shared. Telling him it might smart a little was a bit of a huge understatement. It hurt like a fuckin' bitch, and Rupert was doing nothing to ease up on the force of his strokes, even after Lindsey had started to loosen up, and Rupert's pre-cum had started to ease the way.

He was obviously angry, and Lindsey hated that, but he had to admit, he didn't hate the sex. He loved it like this sometimes, loved to be forced down, hurt, used. Loved it so much his cock was already hard, and pinned painfully between his stomach and the table, the edge of the wood digging into the firm flesh.

It didn't take long for Rupert to finish, loving the feel of Lindsey underneath him, around him, and when he came he roared out Lindsey's name, telling him how beautiful he was, how amazing, and how very much he never wanted to let him go. Well, blast. There went all his hard work tonight, down the drain with a toe-curling orgasm and an unguarded, honest moment.

He pulled himself free from his lover and turned him around, so that they were both kneeling on the floor, facing each other, and looked at him, deep into his eyes for barely a second, before he leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

Lindsey sighed deeply, relieved and touched by the gesture, and returned the kiss, enthusiastically. He was wanted, he wouldn't be replaced, and as long as he could stop from acting like a shit and needing to assert himself, and sure as hell keep from thinking about fucking skinny little punk-ass bartenders, then everything would be fine.

Lindsey deepened the kiss, his tongue delving between Rupert's lips, licking across his teeth, and began to grind his body against the older man, seeking friction, contact on his desperate cock, needing release. His ass was sore, and so were his balls, but he still needed to come.

Rupert shivered, thinking it might be fun to let Lindsey rub off against him, but he didn't deserve it, not tonight. And he'd been getting away with too much lately.

"Sorry, love," he said, moving back slightly, leaving Lindsey panting and wriggling his hips against nothing. "You haven't earned that luxury tonight. Be a good boy for me, and perhaps tomorrow."

Lindsey opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut again quickly, thinking better of it. If he said anything besides the "Yes Rupert," that he decided on instead, in his most submissive tone, he probably wouldn't get to come for a week.

"That's my boy," Rupert praised, with a smile and soft kiss to Lindsey's forehead. "Now go get cleaned up and come to bed. _Our_ bed."

"Yeah, sure baby," Lindsey answered, returning the smile as they both stood, and feeling foolish yet again for the way he'd acted the other night. This was much better.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Arrangement

Characters/Pairings: Giles/Lindsey, Lindsey/Spike, Giles/Wes, Giles/others, other slight pairings

Rating: Adult

Summary: Giles is a ridiculously unfaithful wealthy older man, keeping Lindsey around for pleasure and company, but when someone else catches Lindsey's eye, he realises he wants more out of a relationship. Giles has sex with just about everyone. Spike tries to. Wes gets in over his head.

So, let me break it down. Suggardaddy!Giles, bitch!Lindsey, troublemaker!Spike, naïve!Wes. *nods*

***

Chapter 4

The next day passed a great deal more smoothly that the one before. Rupert and Lindsey slept in much too late, tangled up in each others arms, contented and comfortable. They woke up sometime after eleven o'clock, when Simon had brought them breakfast in bed, pancakes and eggs and bacon for Lindsey, a bowl of granola and half a grapefruit for Rupert.

"You do realise that if you keep eating like that I'll probably outlive you, and then you won't stand to inherit any of my fortune?" Rupert asked jokingly, as Lindsey shovelled too-large mouthfuls of the fat and cholesterol loaded meal into his mouth.

"Yeah," Lindsey answered, grinning around a mouthful of egg. "But I'll have a pretty damn good life up until then."

"Unless of course you get fat before you die, in which case I'd probably prefer not to have sex with you, and then keeping you around would seem an awful waste of my time and resources. And let's face it, my dear. Your years are catching up with you. You won't be able to eat as you please and remain beautiful forever."

"Are you sayin' I'm fat?" Lindsey asked with a frown, looking down at his naked body. What the hell was it with people calling him fat all of a sudden?

"Of course not, darling. You're gorgeous. I'm saying that if you continue to eat like a rugby player, when you're getting older and just about your only exercise is sex, then you _will_ be fat."

"Yeah, well if the alternative is eating shit like that," he said, looking disgustedly at Rupert's tray. "Then I'll take my chances. Besides. I'd still be the best lay you ever had. You wouldn't get rid of me." He hoped he sounded a lot more confidant than he actually was. He hoped Rupert wouldn't get rid of him, but the fact that he wasn't as young and slim as he used to be had been causing a sliver of doubt to lodge itself inside his mind. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to start using the exercise room downstairs a couple of times a week…

"As you say, sweetheart, you'll take your chances," Rupert smiled, and took a bite of his granola.

Lindsey watched Rupert eat his breakfast and pushed the remainder of his own around on his plate, taking a few small bites but eventually giving up. He was almost finished anyway, but he seemed to have lost his appetite. "Fuck, I'm not hungry anymore," he said, dropping his fork down on his plate.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Rupert told him, eyeing him slyly and picking up both of their trays, placing them on the floor beside the bed. "Lay back, lover."

"Oh yeah," Lindsey said, doing as he was told, taking the liberty of spreading his legs and grabbing for Rupert, to move him between them. He was already starting to get hard at the prospect of sex, and he still really needed to come, after last night.

"Close your legs, darling. I'm not going to fuck you," Rupert told him.

A pained expression crossed Lindsey's face as he couldn't manage to hide his disappointment. Shit. He really, really wanted it. But he wasn't about to go making any demands. Not for a while.

Rupert let out a quiet chuckle at Lindsey's distress, and cupped the younger man's cheek in his palm. "I just said that I'm not going to fuck you. Sorry, Lindsey, but I've got a great many years on you, and after last night, I'd say it'll be at least five or six more hours before I'm able." He gave a somewhat embarrassed smile and let his hand trail down Lindsey's neck, over his chest and stomach, and further down, wrapping tightly around Lindsey's very erect cock.

"I am, however, going to jerk you off. Now just lie back and relax."

Lindsey bucked and moaned, tossing his head back against the pillow as Rupert squeezed tightly and started to move his hand. The strokes were long and slow at first, just getting Lindsey worked up, until Rupert was able to scoop up enough moisture from Lindsey's tip to spread around the entire shaft, and ease the motion of his hand.

He sped up quickly, jerking Lindsey furiously to the brink of orgasm, feeling a sense of power and awe at the way the man responded to him, but just before he knew that his lover was going to shoot, he stopped. He didn't take his hand away, but he no longer moved it, and he smiled, waiting for Lindsey to open his eyes, to realise what had just happened.

"What the fuck…?" Lindsey wondered out loud when the tension in his balls hadn't dissipated and the sharp, pleasurable release hadn't come. "Why the hell did you stop?"

"Because you were moving too much. I told you to relax, dearest, and I daresay you don't look especially so at the moment."

"Fuck," Lindsey breathed out, trying to calm his racing heart, his raging lust. "Fuck, yeah, okay. I'll try to stay still." He knew that was the only way he'd be finding any release, and he'd have to go along with it, even if it was a huge pain in the ass. Couldn't he just put the fuckin' games on hold for ten fuckin' minutes?

"That's a good boy," Rupert told him, starting up the movement of his hand again. Lindsey did stay still the next time, for almost a minute at any rate, but again, as he got close to orgasm he started to jerk and thrust his hips, chasing after the pleasure he was so close to, and thrashing his head around on the bed, eyes screwed tightly shut.

And of course, again Rupert stopped, denying him what he so craved. "Rupert…" Lindsey whined, stilling himself immediately and doing his best to go limp. "Please. Baby, please I need this. Need you. Please let me come."

"You can come when you remain still," Rupert told him, starting to jerk him again, and Lindsey sucked in a sharp breath, determined that he wasn't going to move this time if his life depended on it.

Twice more Lindsey started to squirm, and twice more Rupert stilled his hand, until finally Lindsey gave up, gave up the tension in his body, gave up his chase for orgasm, gave up trying to do anything that Rupert hadn't given him permission to do. That was what Rupert had been waiting for, and this time when his lover got close, body completely sanguine and his face relaxed and passive, Rupert didn't stop, wrenched his orgasm from him, and the entire thing was so blissful, so intoxicating, that Lindsey was only able to let out a small pleased groan, a slight purring sound, as the pleasure overtook him.

"See now?" Rupert asked, giving Lindsey's softening cock one more gentle squeeze before letting go and wiping his hand off on a tissue from the night stand. "Much better when you trust me to see to your pleasure, without thinking you can just take it for yourself, isn't it?"

"Mmmhmmm," Lindsey mumbled, his eyes still closed and a stupid grin on his face. It _had_ been great, Rupert was right. But he was going to be seriously out of commission for a little while, and didn't see any harm in taking a little nap to get his energy back up. "Night," he tiredly whispered, and rolled over, pulling the blanket with him, draping it half over his sweaty body.

_Gorgeous_, Rupert thought, his gaze traveling down Lindsey's bare back to where the blanket had fallen, just below the swell of his arse cheeks. _Absolutely gorgeous._ He was one lucky bastard, he knew that. Now if he could only manage to shake the feeling that Lindsey wasn't entirely happy anymore, and that his wandering eye would continue to wander…

***

Lindsey managed to drag his lazy ass out of bed in time for a late lunch with Rupert before the older man had to go out to some sort of charity event or other. He had a lot of money and a lot of free time, and he was involved in several different organizations, gave them money, attended fundraisers and the like. Today Lindsey thought it might have been Habitat for Humanity, or possibly something about vaccinations for people in third world countries.

He knew his lover usually got laid after events like he was going to today, when he didn't bring Lindsey along to show him off like some sort of trophy. People tended to be overly impressed with his funds and generosity, and Rupert could really be incredibly charming when he wanted to. Yesterday that would have bothered him, sitting around the house knowing the older man was off fucking somebody else, fearing that he might decide that keeping someone else around on a permanent basis might be a lot less trouble and a lot more fun that Lindsey.

But today they both seemed to have gotten over whatever the hell the problem between them had been. A problem called Spike, a little part of his brain piped up, and he told it to shut the fuck up. He hadn't had Spike, couldn't have Spike, not if he wanted to keep Rupert. Sure there were things he had begun to realise that he wanted in this relationship, but he couldn't have them, and it was best he just forget about them. He really was happy, for the most part.

That afternoon Lindsey got a phone call from his buddy Charles who had somehow ended up with an extra ticket to the Ducks game. Lindsey didn't really like hockey, and he sure as hell didn't like the Mighty Ducks, but he hadn't been out with Charlie in a while, and he could use a little guy time, someone to just chill with for a bit.

The game ended at ten, so he'd be home well before Rupert got back, but he left a note anyway, just in case, and went out to have a little fun.

***

Rupert had ducked out of his event as soon as the supper had ended and he'd written a fairly substantial cheque, not really in the mood to hang around for the party and the socializing. He usually didn't mind it very much, but he wasn't in the mood to be charming, and falsely interested in the lives of a bunch of near-strangers.

He'd called home and Ana Louisa had informed him of Lindsey's note, and even though it was almost ten, and Lindsey would be home soon, he didn't feel much like going there himself. He wanted to be around people, to watch them and listen to them, enjoy the noise and the commotion, but not largely boring people that he had to pretend to care about.

So, naturally, he found himself at Willie's, sitting on a barstool, perusing the bottles behind the counter, and scanning the room for anyone he knew, looking for a little bit of friendly, unforced conversation.

"What can I get for you, gorgeous?" he heard a sexy cockney voice whisper in his ear from behind, as a compact, hard body pressed up against his back, and an arm snaked around his waist from behind, sliding down to his lap.

He turned slightly and smiled, brushing his nose lightly against Spike's cheek and opened his mouth, lips hovering just over the blond's. "Beer please," he requested, not completing the kiss, and giving Spike a gentle shove backward. "And I thought I told you to cut that out," he added, still smiling.

"Yeah, but you didn't mean it," Spike told him, acting full of himself, as always, and slipping behind the bar to get the man his order. Oh, he knew that Rupert didn't want to fuck him anymore, but he still liked to be flirted with. Spike knew he was hot, knew Rupert liked the fact that he liked him, and Spike had no intention of cutting out the flirting. Not when the old man gave the kind of tips he did.

Although, if he kept trying to fuck his wife he thought the tips might dry up significantly. He'd better make sure he never found out.

"So," Rupert said, casually, as Spike put his drink down in front of him. "I hear Lindsey was in here the other day." If Lindsey had been with somebody, perhaps Spike would know who it was, would have seen what happened, especially if they'd been chatting, like Lindsey had said.

"Who?" Spike asked, and froze, eyes going wide, and nearly dropped a bottle of vodka. "I mean, uh… yeah, I saw him." Oh, sure. Way to come off completely and totally innocent there, Spike. Good one. He mentally rolled his eyes at himself and put the bottle down.

He knew exactly who Lindsey was, had seen him and Rupert around enough, and he'd heard Rupert talking about him when he was there without him, so pretending that he didn't know who he was talking about was a dead giveaway he was hiding something.

"Yes," Rupert responded, looking carefully at Spike, wondering why he had acted so strangely. "He mentioned the two of you spoke."

"…Yeah…" What was he supposed to say? Did Rupert know? He wasn't really the kind for confessions, and the chances that Lindsey had said something were pretty slim, so he decided to keep his mouth shut and try to play it cool. He intended to see Lindsey again, often if he had anything to say about it, but if Rupert found out now, that probably wouldn't be happening.

"And did you notice anything… off… about him at all?"

"Er… off?" he asked, almost squeaking, and swallowed. "No, I don't think so. We didn't really talk much." That was true.

"I see." Rupert didn't say anything for several seconds, and finally another customer came to the bar, demanding Spike's attention and service. Spike was definitely acting weird, and Rupert was thinking once again that he was the cause of Lindsey's weirdness, though he couldn't really accuse anyone of anything concrete without any proof, without the risk of looking quite foolish.

"He's quite beautiful, isn't he?" Rupert asked after he'd ordered a second beer from Spike.

"Hmm?" Spike asked, jumping a little and turning back around to face Rupert. He was getting a little weirded out, and he just wanted it to turn eleven o'clock already so his shift would be over and he could get out of there. And even moreso because Rupert was here, at Willie's, and looking as if he might be here for a while, and that meant that Lindsey was probably home alone. And if Spike showed up, he might just get Lindsey to let him in for a little visit.

"Lindsey," Rupert clarified, just in case Spike hadn't known exactly what he was talking about. "He's a very attractive man."

"He's alright, I guess. Hadn't really noticed."

"Yes, I'm sure." The day Spike didn't notice an attractive man, or woman for that matter, or bloody poodle, would surely signal the end of the world.

Spike left to go into the backroom to gather a few more bottles of booze, replenishing the stock behind the bar, and Rupert nursed his drink, then ordered another, and drank that as well, watching others drink and talk and make out in corners. He really should get going, he knew. Get back home to Lindsey so they could fuck and laugh fall asleep together, but he was feeling angry all over again. Something was definitely going on.

He still wanted to fuck, but the idea of being with Lindsey wasn't as appealing as it had been an hour ago.

"Get you another?" Spike asked, and Rupert spun around to face him. "I'm off now. Need anything else before I head out?"

"Thanks, no," Rupert said, holing up his half-filled bottle. "I'm good for now." He pulled his wallet out of the pocket of his overcoat and pulled out a fifty dollar bill, passing it so Spike and smiling. If something was going on between Lindsey and Spike, he really shouldn't blame Spike. It was Lindsey that owed him loyalty.

"Thanks baby," Spike said, waggling his eyebrows and leaning across the bar to place a loud, smacking kiss on Rupert's lips before jumping back and heading out, calling goodbyes to a few other employees and stopping to kiss and feel up a very attractive young lady who was standing by the payphone.

Rupert finished the rest of his beer in one go, and ordered a double shot of scotch afterward, downing that quickly as well. He was about to do something he'd never done before, and he needed to numb himself somewhat.

***

Lindsey had been home for almost half an hour now, and he'd been playing Guitar Hero on the big screen with the volume cranked up to full. He had always thought the game was pretty stupid, in theory anyway, because who the hell would want to play some crappy piece of guitar shaped plastic when they had an actual guitar they could play. One he was damn good at playing, and looked damn good while he did it.

But after he'd played the game, he'd found it kind of fun, playing some of his favourite songs so loud that Rupert complained he'd go deaf. Which was why he only did it when his lover wasn't home.

He was halfway into _Slow Ride_, by Foghat, when he heard a vague thumping sort of a sound that took him a moment to realise was someone pounding on the apartment door, trying to be heard over the music. He hit pause on the game and put his guitar down, crossing the apartment to answer the door, wondering who the hell would be knocking at eleven thirty at night. Unless Rupert had forgotten his keys.

It wasn't Rupert.

When Lindsey opened the door and saw who was standing on the other side he was shocked as hell, wasn't sure exactly what to do, or what to say, but figured anything to get Spike to get the hell out of there, right the hell now, was probably good.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Nice welcome, pet," Spike said sarcastically. "Someone might think you weren't happy to see me."

"I'm not," Lindsey denied. And really he wasn't. Not here, not right now. When Rupert could come back any second and see him there and know that something was going on. "Now get the hell out of here before you get me in trouble. Rupert's asleep in the other room."

"Really? Asleep? With the bloody racket that was going on in here? Well, I guess his hearing must be going in his old age."

"Fuck, shut up," Lindsey said, making a face. "He's not that fuckin' old. Not too old for you to spread your legs for him," Lindsey added, grumbling.

"Oh, so he told you about that?" Spike asked, smiling slyly. "Was wonderin' if you knew."

"Of course I knew," Lindsey told him, making it sound like he'd known all along and hadn't just found out a couple of days ago during an argument. "He doesn't hide shit like that from me."

"Not like you hide it from him?"

"There's nothing to hide, because there's nothing going on here. It was once, and nothing even happened. Now get the hell out of here before Rupert wakes up."

"Ten minutes," Spike said, ignoring the comment about Rupert being asleep for a second.

"What?"

"Let me in. Talk with me, have a drink. After ten minutes I'll go. If not, I'll just stay out here until you let me in."

"Spike," Lindsey said, his voice almost pleading. Fuck, it was hard enough to tell him no, to ask him to leave, and if he did let him in, he knew he wasn't going to be able to control himself. Spike made him lose control, and really, that was his appeal. "Rupert…"

"Is at Willie's," Spike said grinning and tilting his head. "I just left there, and he was working on his third beer. Seemed like he might be there a while."

"Oh." Lindsey blushed slightly and looked away briefly, embarrassed that Spike had caught him in such a stupid lie.

"So?" Spike asked, gesturing to the apartment behind Lindsey. "You gonna let me in? The floor out here looks pretty comfy…"

Lindsey sighed and stepped back, making a sweeping movement with his arm. "Come on it. But ten minutes. That's all."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Arrangement

Characters/Pairings: Giles/Lindsey, Lindsey/Spike, Giles/Wes, Giles/others, other slight pairings

Rating: Adult

Summary: Giles is a ridiculously unfaithful wealthy older man, keeping Lindsey around for pleasure and company, but when someone else catches Lindsey's eye, he realises he wants more out of a relationship. Giles has sex with just about everyone. Spike tries to. Wes gets in over his head.

***

Chapter 5

Rupert held the glass of gin tighter in his fist and took a deep breath. He didn't usually drink gin, had no idea why it would have been stocked in his limo, except that Lindsey had bought some when he'd been out last, but that's what he had currently, and since all the stores that sold liquor were closed, that was what he was drinking.

"Just over here, Henry," he told his driver, looking out the tinted window and pushing the button for the intercom. "Around this corner and pull over."

His driver did as instructed and pulled over just onto a side street, on a corner where half a dozen pretty young men were casually standing around. They weren't obvious, most of them anyway. It wasn't like they were dressed up in skin tight leather with their dicks hanging out and nipples showing, but Rupert knew what they were. He'd been living in this town for years, and when you were a wealthy, bisexual eccentric, word got around.

"Hey baby," one of the boys came over and said to him after he'd rolled down his window. "Can I help you… find anything tonight?"

Rupert looked him up and down, quickly dismissing him as too muscular and too effeminate, though up until now he hadn't thought someone could be both of those things. And then he glanced quickly at the others behind the one at his window, his gaze landing on one in particular.

He wasn't what Rupert would have called traditionally handsome, wouldn't even have considered him on a normal day. He seemed a little bit… dorky, actually, over-excited, what with the way he was craning his neck to get a peek inside the limo window, the way he was smiling and bouncing and his eyes were near bulging out. But this wasn't a normal day, and the boy was just this side of cute, and he needed something different.

"Yes," he answered, short and authoritative. "You can fetch that young man back there. The one that looks like he might burst a blood vessel if he doesn't get to see the inside of my limousine."

The boy in front of him mumbled something to effect of "whatever" and walked over to the one Rupert had asked for. They said something back and forth, the young man seeming extremely excited about the request, and a couple of others grinning and patting him on the back. That seemed odd. Rupert had never hired a whore before, but he didn't think one lousy trick in a limo was anything to get excited about. It wasn't as if he was going to pay him more than anyone else would. Well… not much more. Bugger, alright, fine, however the hell much the stupid kid wanted him to pay. It wasn't as if he didn't have money to spare.

He felt increasingly off about the whole thing as the boy started the walk toward him. He'd never before this looked for sex outside his thing with Lindsey, never felt the need. Sure, he hadn't exactly been faithful, even before the tension between them lately, but any time he'd strayed it had only been because someone had thrown themselves at him. He hadn't usually felt that he had to turn them away, not the times they were incredibly attractive, enticing, but he'd certainly never looked for another person to fuck. He had Lindsey for that. He _liked_ Lindsey for that.

And this suddenly felt oddly like cheating. He shook the feeling off, dismissing it as ridiculous. He couldn't rightly cheat on Lindsey when they weren't even a couple, and besides, he suspected Lindsey of slight faithlessness himself, so he had no reason to feel bad about this.

"Hey!" The boy chirped, pulling him out of his thoughts. "You… You asked for me? I mean… that's so cool. Really? Really, you wanted me?"

Rupert frowned and made a shushing motions with his hand, shaking his head. Perhaps he'd chosen poorly. "Just… just get in the car for now. We'll… talk." He opened the door and the boy practically tripped over his own feet to get inside.

"Wow! A limo!" the boy said, sitting down next to Rupert, rubbing his hands on the soft leather bench seat. "I've never been in a limo before. How fast does it go? Hey, can I stick my head out the sunroof and drive down Santa Monica? Oh, this is so cool!"

Rupert chuckled, thinking this boy might be more trouble than he was worth, but he had an air of innocence and glee that Rupert found somewhat sweet. "I'm glad you think so," he said. "And if we were anywhere near Santa Monica I might consider it. But I'm not interested in sightseeing tonight. I just want to fuck."

"Oh, yeah, okay, right. What should I do? I mean…" he sort of trailed off, hands moving to his own pants, obviously thinking about unfastening them, then changing his mind, and moving them toward Rupert's pants. He stopped that motion halfway through as well and instead held out the hand for Rupert to shake. "I'm Andrew, by the way," he said, smiling hopefully.

Rupert snorted and shook the boy's hand, saying, "It's nice to meet you, Andrew, but I don't particularly care what your name is." Shit, Rupert had never done this before, but the boy looked like he'd never even heard the word 'prostitute', never mind worked as one. "I do care how old you are." Andrew looked young, and nervous, and Rupert would do a lot of things, but he drew the line at statutory rape.

"Oh, um, I just turned eighteen. Last week. We went out to play laser tag, but I didn't like it because Jonathon kept shining the laser in my eyes."

"Yes, as interesting as that is," Rupert said, not sounding like he found it interesting in the least, "Let's talk business. I want you to strip, entirely, and sit on my lap, facing me, and ride my cock. How much will that cost?"

"Uh…" Andrew said, thinking about it, looking a little bit shy. "I don't really know," he confessed. "See, I only just started being a prostitute. Like, just today. Actually you're the first guy I've… seen. But, I've been reading all these stories on the internet about them, and they seemed really hot."

"Yes, good for you. Excellent reason to start selling your body. The completely unrealistic works of fiction are 'hot'." Rupert almost wanted to bring the boy home and drop him off in his parents' living room, but he'd just be back out here again tomorrow, and Rupert somewhat liked the idea of helping the boy break into his new trade.

And he was young. Rupert hadn't been with someone as young as him since long before he was with Lindsey, and he was suddenly finding that he really wanted to.

"I'll pay you five hundred," he said, and when Andrew's eyes nearly bulged right out of his head he hastened to add, "But don't expect that from everybody. For a five minute fuck, fifteen feet away from all of your friends, you probably won't get more than one hundred."

Andrew's face fell a little, knowing that he wasn't going to be making this kind of money all the time, but hey, a hundred dollars a minute this time was pretty damn cool. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small packet, handing it to Rupert, and quickly stripped out of his clothing.

Rupert unfastened his pants and pulled out his cock, pumping it a few times to get it to full hardness and slipped the condom on, tossing the wrapper in waste bag on the floor. He leaned back into his seat and looked at Andrew, kneeling on the floor, naked in front of him, the young man's cock so hard it looked like he could hammer nails with it.

It seemed as if the idea of selling himself really _was_ hot for the boy. Of course, the fact that his first time was with a mysterious, generous man in a fancy limousine was probably only fueling the fantasy for him. Oh well. He'd learn eventually.

"Are you… experienced?" Rupert asked, and motioned for Andrew to get up, to straddle him.

Andrew squeaked and jerked in surprise as his erection brushed up against Rupert's, and he tried to move so that the contact was deeper, firmer, closing his eyes as he imagined how good it would me. But Rupert held his hips firmly, not letting him move.

"Andrew," he said, and the boy opened his eyes. "I asked you a question."

"Well, I just told you that this was my first time, you know, being a whore."

"No, I meant at sex in general."

"Oh," he said, understanding and smiling proudly and nodding. "Oh, yeah. Me and Jonathon, we did it like, ten times, and except for once I always got to be on top. And then one with Warren, but I didn't like that as much, cause…"

"I don't need the details, you silly, pretty little thing. I just want to know how much care I should be taking. I don't actually want to hurt you." Others would, he was pretty sure, but the boy would learn that fast enough.

"You mean when you…? It should be fine," he answered. "I've been using a vibrator."

"Good to know," Rupert snorted. He lifted Andrew up slightly, and positioned him over his prick, then slammed him down, hard on top of him, encasing his cock in the warm tightness. Oh, yes, this wasn't going to last long at all.

Andrew screamed at first, the suddenness of the intrusion something he wasn't used to, but the vibrator he'd been practicing on was pretty big, and he adjusted quickly. And then it felt good. So good. Jonathon was nice, but he was awkward and as inexperienced as Andrew, but this guy… he really knew what he was doing, was sexy, confident, and Andrew was kind of getting off on being used like this.

True to his word, Rupert finished in under five minutes, and when he was done, he gave Andrew a little swat on the bum to move him out of the way as he cleaned himself up with the tissues on the table next to the seat. Once he was tucked and zipped he looked over to see Andrew, still naked and kneeling on the floor, still hard, looking at him almost pleadingly.

"Oh, for God's sake," he said, tossing him a few of the tissues. "Go ahead and see to yourself before you burst something. But be quick."

Andrew breathed out a heavy sigh of relief and took his advice, jacking himself furiously to completion, as Rupert watched, with interest. It was almost enough to get him hard again. It might have been if it were Lindsey, at any rate.

Andrew moaned when he came, much louder than Rupert had, and after he was finished, he felt even more flustered than before they'd started. He awkwardly shuffled forward, throwing out the used tissue, and did his best to scramble into his clothes without banging into anything. He almost succeeded.

"Thank you, Andrew," Rupert said, once he was dressed. It was intended as a dismissal, because Andrew was currently staring at him as if he was thinking about kissing him, but he said it kindly.

"Uh, sure, yeah," Andrew mumbled, quickly turning and reaching for the door handle. "You're welcome." He flung the door open and jumped out, closing it behind him and starting to walk away.

He paused after only three steps when he heard the man call through the re-opened limo window, "Andrew," and he paused and turned.

"I think you forgot something," Rupert told him, smiling, holding up a wad of cash. The boy had been in such a hurry to leave, that he hadn't noticed Rupert reaching for his wallet once they were finished.

"Oh, right," Andrew said, starting to blush, and going back to the window. "Thanks."

Rupert handed over the cash and gave him a somewhat scolding look. "Next time make sure you get the money before hand."

"Sure," Andrew answered, scurrying away, running up to his friends to no doubt tell them the tale of his first trick with a great deal of embellishment.

He wound up the window and asked Henry to take him back home, back to Lindsey.

***

Spike smiled as Lindsey moved out of the way, and walked in. He moved straight past Lindsey and into the kitchen, grabbing down a bottle of bourbon, which he knew was Lindsey's favourite, and two glasses from the cupboard. He poured them each a drink and turned around to find Lindsey behind him, staring at him questioningly, but taking his drink anyway.

"How did you know where we kept the drinks?" Lindsey asked, wondering how Spike knew straight where to go. "And how did you know where I lived?"

Spike put his glass to his lips, smirking around the lip and waggled his eyebrows devilishly, before he shrugged slightly and took a sip.

"What… oh, fuck no," Lindsey said, a disgusted look crossing his face, even though what he was thinking wasn't all that disgusting at all. Not the visual, at any rate. "He fucked you _here_?" He didn't really care what his lover did as long as it was elsewhere, but ultimately he didn't have a choice in the matter. He still didn't like it, especially hearing that Rupert had brought _Spike_ back to their place.

"You'd be amazed what kinds of positions you can get into that chair in the living room. Then again," he added, eyeing Lindsey up and down, "you probably know better than me."

"That's _my_ fuckin' chair!" Lindsey groused. First he finds out that the only guy he's touched since he's been with Rupert had been with Rupert first, then he finds out they did in the apartment he shared with him, and now in his own chair. Damn, the hits just kept on coming.

"Well, we could give it a try if you like," Spike offered. "If you're so keen on being involved in any sex that goes on there."

Lindsey sighed and slammed back his drink, looking at the clock above the stove. Damn. Still seven minutes before he could kick Spike out without him throwing a fit and camping out in the hallway.

"Seriously," he started, ignoring Spike's crude attempt at what probably passed for seduction with him. "What are you doing here? If he saw us together he'd kick me out."

"So?" Spike asked, truly not understanding what the problem with that would be. How the hell could Lindsey be happy like this? Not that Spike was counting on making him happy either, beyond the occasional fuck, but at least he wouldn't try to keep him like some kind of trophy wife. Spike was the type of guy that believed, much to his own repeated heartache, in true love, wanted it for himself, desperately. He honestly didn't think that Lindsey was the one he'd find it with, but it was fun to keep himself entertained while he was looking. And he didn't see how this thing between Rupert and Lindsey could be real, could make them happy.

"Do you actually like it here? With that dirty old man, doing whatever he wants you to do, not being able to live your own life?"

"This _is_ my life, Spike. And yes, I like it here! I like _him_. And he's not some dirty old man. Why the hell do you say shit like that?"

Spike frowned and opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again, deciding another rude comment of some sort probably wouldn't go over. Why _did_ he say shit like that? Because he knew it pissed Lindsey off, and he was bloody hot when he was pissed off. Because he knew, despite what Lindsey said, that the other man wanted him, he could feel it when they were together, and that he got off on Spike putting his lover down, telling him he was too good to be with Rupert. It was an ego thing.

And also because Spike was, to put it mildly, a bit of a jerk, on occasion, even if he tended to feel terrible about it later. He liked to get his own way, he liked to get what he wanted, and when he didn't, he acted up, said stupid things, hurt people he didn't mean to hurt. And at the moment, he very much wanted Lindsey. The fact that he was going to have to work at it only made him want it more, and crazy to get it.

"Yeah, sorry," Spike mumbled, but the apology was genuine. "And I'm here," he continued, louder and bolder, finishing the rest of his drink and putting the glass down on the counter. "To be near you. To touch you."

He took two steps closer to Lindsey, who was standing against the kitchen island, stopping directly in front of him, and leaning forward, pressing his chest against Lindsey's.

"To make you admit that you want to be with me," he half-whispered, one hand moving to Lindsey's back while he thrust his pelvis forward, dragging his dick slowly across Lindsey's. "That you want to fuck me. Bend me over this counter here, or maybe that chair you like so much, and show me exactly what you're made of. Make me scream, beg you to do it harder, and come shouting out your name."

Lindsey couldn't help the shiver and moan that passed through him, and pushed his groin further against Spike's, his dick hardening despite his extreme force of will. "Spike… please…"

This was just… incredibly unfair. Spike, here at his house, so close, breathing into his ear, offering himself, painting such pretty pictures… "Fuck," he panted out and tilted his head, nudging Spike's face slightly and taking his lips in a heated kiss. "Fuck, Spike."

Lindsey deepened the kiss and Spike didn't complain, opening his mouth wider and sweeping his tongue out across Lindsey's, pulling him tighter against his body, grinding their now very impressive erections together through their jeans.

Lindsey knew this was fucked up, knew he shouldn't be doing it, knew that Rupert would end things if he knew about it, just like he knew the last time they did this. And again, just like the last time, Spike was much too alluring for him to prevent himself from at least getting a little taste.

Spike's offer of Lindsey fucking him over the kitchen counter had really gotten to him, in a way that not much else did. He was hot, he knew that, knew people wanted him. But he knew he could never act on it, so it wasn't usually hard for him to turn them down. But the way Spike had offered to submit, so willingly, so prettily, to let Lindsey take control and do as he pleased and not tell him what to do and how to think, got to him.

Lindsey hadn't fucked anyone since he'd met Rupert, not even Rupert, and he'd never even tried to. Of course he'd wanted to, had enjoyed it in the past, but Rupert had made it pretty clear that it wasn't typically Lindsey's place to ask for things, sexually, and the older man had never expressed interest in Lindsey being the one doing the fucking.

It was just one of those things that Lindsey lived with, happily. Except now someone had shown up, flaunting what Lindsey secretly wanted. Only he wanted it with Rupert. Really he did. Yeah, he wanted it with Spike, too, he couldn't deny that, but not in the same way. He wanted to punch Spike in the face a little, and fuck him into the kitchen floor.

But he wanted something more with Rupert. Sort of. He liked what they had, he honestly did, but he couldn't say he hadn't been thinking that he might like things to be a little different, recently. Wanted his feelings and opinions to be considered every once in a while. Not that he'd ever get that.

"God, Lindsey, just let go and let's fuck," Spike said, breaking the kiss for just as long as it took to speak, then licking up and down Lindsey's neck. "You know you want it."

Yes, yes he did. But he couldn't. He wasn't going to risk what he had with Rupert for a cheap thrill. He mustered up whatever strength he could find and gave Spike a push, successfully separating them.

"I just told you I'm happy. Why are you doing this? Are you trying to split us up so you can have him?" That was a thought that had entered Lindsey's mind the second he'd learned Spike and Rupert had been together, and it was still something he was afraid of.

"I'm not trying to split you up," Spike said. "And I don't want him. He was fun, sure, but I've been there," he told Lindsey, leaning forward again to kiss him on the neck. "Done that. Now I want you."

"So this is some kind of twisted game?" Lindsey asked, pushing Spike away yet again. "Do you go around fucking couples all the time, just to prove that they want you more than each other?"

"Lindsey…"

"No. Because you know what? _We_ don't. He might have fucked you, but he sure as hell doesn't want to again. And I don't even want you once. So you can fuck right off."

"That's not what this sodding is, okay?!" Spike snapped, taking a step back and balling his fist, wanting to drive it straight into Lindsey's smug little mouth. "I want you, alright? Nothing to do with anyone else. I just want you. We're certainly not going to live happily ever. Neither of us wants that, but I do want you. And you want me."

"Like fuck I do," Lindsey denied. "The only one I want is Rupert. This?" he said, gesturing between the two of them wildly, "has just been… some sort of temporary insanity."

"No, Lindsey. It's called chemistry. Purely physical, sure, but it's there. Let it happen."

"Ten," Lindsey said quietly, a shaky whisper, as his hands itched to move, to pull Spike back to him, no matter how incredibly infuriating he was. Stupid cocky, sexy asshole. The worst part was that Lindsey couldn't entirely disagree with him.

"What?" Spike asked, shaking his head.

"Ten minutes. Get out."

"Lindsey, come on…"

"You promised you'd leave after ten minutes," Lindsey reminded, almost begging. "It's been ten minutes."

"Fine," Spike sighed, reaching out to take the glass out of Lindsey's hand, the one he hadn't touched yet, and swallowing the liquid down in one go, then putting it down next to the sink and moving back. "I'll go. But you know this isn't over."

As Lindsey saw Spike out the door, he had a sinking suspicion that he was very right about that.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Arrangement

Characters/Pairings: Giles/Lindsey, Lindsey/Spike, Giles/Wes, Giles/others, other slight pairings

Rating: Adult

Summary: Giles is a ridiculously unfaithful wealthy older man, keeping Lindsey around for pleasure and company, but when someone else catches Lindsey's eye, he realises he wants more out of a relationship. Giles has sex with just about everyone. Spike tries to. Wes gets in over his head.

***

Chapter 6

When Rupert had gotten home the previous night, Lindsey had been twitchy again. He wasn't acting out, or avoiding him, exactly, but as they'd watched the news together, he'd not sat close to him, half draped over him, touching, being his usual playful self.

When Rupert had asked how the game had been, how his night had been, Lindsey had told him fine, and kissed him, quickly, and left it at that, hadn't gone into all the details he normally did when he was telling Rupert about something.

And he hadn't asked if Rupert had been fucking around, like he knew was likely after his charity event, hadn't teased about it like he usually did, and bragged again about _him_ being the one Rupert could never give up, and everyone else paling in comparison.

Which to Rupert could only mean one thing: Lindsey was no longer convinced that he would always be the one to share Rupert's life, because Lindsey had done something to jeopardize that position.

***

"What's his name?" Rupert had asked, when they'd been lying in bed together, not sleeping.

"What?" Lindsey had asked back, quietly, heart seizing in his chest. He had felt his world completely dissolve with that one question, knowing that his lover knew what he'd been doing, and that he wasn't going to forgive him.

"I asked what his name was."

"Whose name?" Playing dumb was just about the stupidest thing he could have done, but he hadn't been able to help himself.

"The boy you've been fucking around with." Rupert had sounded much more sure than he actually felt, but he had to be persistent if he wanted to get Lindsey to admit to anything.

"What?!" Lindsey had asked again, genuinely shocked and sitting up in the bed, the blanket slipping down to expose his bare chest. He hadn't been 'fucking around'. He'd made one little mistake. Okay, two, but he sure as shit hadn't been fucking around! What the fuck? "No! I didn't…"

"Oh, so you haven't actually fucked him yet. Maybe just a little bit of kissing, touching…?" He was glad to hear for certain that they hadn't fucked, although he'd suspected as much. Nobody else had fucked Lindsey. Ever. When Rupert took a long-term lover he made sure they hadn't been taken by anyone else before, and that until he was finished with them, they never were.

But he'd all but confirmed that there was actually someone else, and had his suspicion as to who it was.

"Rupert…" Lindsey had said, the word a plea, an apology. Oh, fuck, this was his worst nightmare.

"I know you wouldn't take betraying me lightly," Rupert had told him, his voice tight with anger and upset. "So before you continue, I'd suggest that you decide whether or not this boy is worth it, whether he can give you what I can, whether he means to you what we both know I mean."

"Rupert, I swear, I haven't betrayed you," Lindsey told him again, looking him straight in the eye so that the older man knew he was telling the truth. "Okay fine," he continued, his sigh catching on a hiccup as he tried to calm down. If he was honest, mostly honest anyway, then there was a chance Rupert would go easy on him.

"The other night, when you were out with Liam and I was at Willie's," he had started, swallowing a lump in his throat and trying to find the courage to finish. "Someone… hit on me. I kinda liked it, and I kinda let him, and we'd had a lot to drink. He kissed me. Tried stuff. I didn't stop him as soon as I should have, but I swear, I did stop him. Nothing happened." That was mostly the truth. Spike showing at their place earlier hadn't been Lindsey's fault, and he'd told him to leave as soon as he could.

Rupert had nodded, that confession describing exactly what he'd figured had happened. It was still like a slap in the face, to hear Lindsey talk about letting someone else touch him, and there was no way in hell he was going to let him away with it without punishing him. But he'd believed Lindsey when he told him that it hadn't gone very far, and he'd put a stop to things, and that was enough to buy a little leniency, in the form of Rupert not dumping him on his ass.

"Go to sleep Lindsey," he'd told him, voice devoid of expression. "I'm tired. I'll think of a suitable punishment for you in the morning."

Lindsey had waited until Rupert had rolled over, showing him his back, and then he'd closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath, relieved. He was still in trouble, but he'd dodged a serious bullet in not getting kicked out. He hoped.

He hated that he'd done what he'd done, hated that he wanted to do it again and hated that he was seeming to care more and more about being with Rupert for the sake of being with Rupert and less for the large fortune that went along with it.

He didn't know what he'd do if he didn't have Rupert anymore, yet he couldn't seem to stop thinking about Spike, about what he'd offered. Fuck, he was in trouble.

***

Now it was the morning, and Lindsey woke up, cracking a cautious eye to see that Rupert was no longer lying next to him. He sat, rubbing his hand over his face, and wondering if his lover had come up with his punishment yet. It wasn't that he was particularly looking forward to it, but the sooner they got to it, the sooner it would be over and done with, and they could get back to normal.

He showered quickly, and tossed on a pair of blue sweats, the pair that he knew Rupert liked, because they were a little too big, and rode low on his hips, showing off a little bit of skin without being too revealing. He didn't bother with a shirt. He wasn't exactly trying to manipulate Rupert with his looks, it was just... Well, yes, okay, he was. What?

He didn't really think it was going to work, but it was worth a shot.

When he left the bedroom and walked down the hall toward the kitchen, he saw Rupert sitting at the breakfast table and went to join him, sitting down in his usual chair, deciding to remain quiet until his lover spoke.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked, not thirty seconds later. Well, that went well. He never could keep his mouth shut, and the tense quiet made him nervous.

Rupert had been staring at Lindsey since he sat down, so merely raised one eyebrow and told him, "Whatever you decide to cook for us."

"What?" Lindsey never cooked. Never. Well, there was that one time he'd tried to make meatloaf, but they didn't talk about that. What the hell could Rupert be thinking, asking him to cook breakfast?

"I'm wondering what you think happens when people break the rules Lindsey," Rupert said, keeping his voice cold and casual. "I mean, you obviously don't see the importance in them, rules I mean. Don't think they need to be followed."

"Rupert, what…?"

"Or is it just that you don't think the rules apply to _you_? Should everyone else do what they're supposed to, what's expected of them? Or can everyone just do whatever they feel like without any consequences, without any affect on others?"

"Look, I know what I did was wrong…"

"For example," Rupert continued, as though Lindsey hadn't spoke. "Would it be alright if Simon broke the rules? Decided not to come in to work today? Or even for the next week? What would we do then, Lindsey?"

"Call for take-out?" he asked hopefully, cringing a little bit at the expected backlash for his smart-talk.

"Yes, and if your cooking is not up to my standards, I will. But only for myself. I'm afraid that if you want to eat for the next seven days, you'll have to cook it. I like my breakfast at eight o'clock, unless I specify otherwise the previous night. I'll let you know each day when I'd like lunch and supper. You know what I like to eat."

"Rupert, you can't be serious," Lindsey said. "I know I fucked up, okay? Really, I do. And if you want to punish me, great. But… I can't cook! We both know that." This was going to be a disaster.

"Well, I think it's about time you learned. What if I'd decided to let you go, Lindsey? What if you didn't have Simon to count on, or a limitless credit card for eating at all your favourite places? Things break down when people don't do what they're supposed to do. Actions have consequences."

Lindsey sucked in a deep breath and let it out again, closing his eyes briefly and ducking his head. "You're right," he said. "Consequences. I get it. I'll do whatever you want, baby." The not so subtle reminder that Lindsey hadn't been shown the door when he very well could have was enough to shut him up and gain his cooperation. Besides, it wasn't as if having to cook for a week was all that bad a punishment.

"I'm glad," Rupert told him, but the smile Lindsey had expected to come along with the statement was missing. "Because I've also given Ana Louisa the week off, so can pick up her workload as well."

Lindsey just nodded.

"Good. And since you'll be so busy with all the cooking and cleaning and laundry, you won't really have time to go out at all. Or have time for any of your movies, or your video games, or… your guitar."

Well, damn. Taking away his guitar? That was just low. But, it was only a week, and if he could get through it without complaining, acting like a good little boy, he'd have proven that he was really regretting what he'd done, and that he was determined to be the perfect little bitch again.

And he was.

"Sure," he agreed, standing up and starting toward the fridge to prepare breakfast before Rupert could spring anything else on him.

"Egg white omelette," Rupert ordered, when Lindsey stood. That should be easy enough for him to handle, even if he wasn't a great chef. Rupert didn't intend for Lindsey to fail at this exercise, just to learn a lesson. "With peppers and mushrooms."

"You got it," Lindsey answered, turning back to smile at him, the picture of obedience.

"Oh, and Lindsey?" Rupert added, when the young man opened the fridge and bent over, showing off the sleek lines of his back and the swell of his behind. "Please put a shirt on." He didn't need a constant reminder of something that he had no intention of indulging in for a while.

***

Rupert had essentially been treating Lindsey like a rebellious teenager, taking away his toys, giving him extra chores, grounding him. But all that he could have handled. All that he would have been able to deal with, roll his eyes at the lack of imagination, the lack of any actual behavioural deterrent.

It was the fact that Rupert hadn't touched him, hadn't talked to him, hadn't even looked at him, in three days, that was the worst part. There was a time when Lindsey would have thought that three days off sex slave duty wouldn't have been so bad, might even have been welcome, but it wasn't just the sex he missed.

He missed the random conversations about nothing, the falling asleep together and the good morning kisses, the sarcastic mouthing off and the enjoyable outcomes. He missed going out for dinner together, getting shown off, getting smiled at over some movie they were watching together, missed Rupert looking at him like he cared. Missed being as close to a couple as he could get away with calling them.

On the fourth day, Lindsey couldn't take anymore.

"I was thinkin'," he mentioned, trying to sound casual, over a supper of not entirely poorly prepared fettuccini. He knew it was Rupert's favourite, and he'd gone to a lot of trouble to make it properly, from scratch. Spent all afternoon on it. "Maybe tonight, you know, after I've finished the laundry and the vacuuming… maybe we could do something together."

Rupert looked up at him, swallowing down a bite of his supper and licking his lips clean. "Do something together? Like what?"

They were the first words his lover had spoken to him in days, and they could have been a lot harsher. That gave him hope. "Yeah, well, obviously nothing to do with television or guitars, but…. Maybe we could just sit together, talk, read something."

Rupert smiled slightly and nodded his head, once. "Yes. Yes alright. Something." It was incredibly gratifying for Rupert to know that Lindsey wanted to be with him, that he was craving the most important things that he'd taken away, had seen beyond the more superficial punishment and into what he'd really been intending.

A lack of affection was far more effective than anything else he could come up with. With Lindsey anyway. Lately. A more physical punishment, while fun, wouldn't do him much good. All Lindsey would learn from that was that he could get to Rupert, had power over him, and that would probably only cause him to act out further. But acting as if Lindsey didn't exist, as if Rupert wasn't troubled in the least by having nothing to do with him, that he would learn from.

He wasn't a fool. He knew that these little signs as of late, the jealousy, the cheating, the acting out, were just indicators that he was starting to feel more than he should be feeling, starting to want Rupert in a way that they'd always agreed was out of the question.

And if that was the case, the both of them had some serious thinking to do. But not tonight.

***

That night, they did in fact do something together, though Rupert made certain that it wasn't what Lindsey really wanted to be doing. He was still being punished.

"Rupert, seriously?" Lindsey whinged, sighing an exaggerated sigh, and pulling the trigger on the squirt bottle, dampening the back of the shirt. "You can't honestly think that ironing is a really fun way to pass the time. I mean… have you ever even done it before?"

"I have, as a matter of fact," Rupert answered, tugging on the tails of the shirt, stretching it out so that when Lindsey ran the iron over it, it wouldn't wrinkle worse. "And no, I don't think it's especially fun. But you are still being punished, Lindsey."

"Yeah, I know. But couldn't we just…"

"Couldn't we just…" Rupert interrupted. "Just what? Just pretend that you didn't do anything to betray my trust in you? Just call it a wash after you've served only half your sentence, so that you can go along thinking that you can do whatever you choose, regardless of what I've told you, because there won't be anything to answer for?"

"Sorry. You're right," Lindsey said, running the iron over the shoulder of the shirt and down. "I'll do it, and I won't complain anymore." He really wouldn't. There would be no point. He'd already pushed it too far, expressing as much discontent as he had.

Rupert nodded and they spent he next half an hour or so in a relatively companionable silence, putting a pretty hefty dent in the nearly week's worth of ironing that had been sitting in the laundry room. It was pretty generous of him to help Lindsey out with his chores, he thought. He truly would have liked to do something else with him, something more carnal for example, but his week of punishment wasn't up yet, and in truth, he was still feeling slightly angry over what Lindsey had done.

"Well, that's sorted," he said, placing the last of the shirts on a hanger and hanging it the wheeled cart, to be brought into the bedroom. "You can put these away in the closet, and then do as you please. I'm going out."

"Going out?" Lindsey asked, sounding much more calm than he felt. This isn't what he'd wanted tonight. He'd wanted something nice. Though he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. "What's goin' on?"

"What's going on, is that I want to get laid," Rupert told him, matter-of-factly. "Oh, don't look at me like I've just shot your puppy. What the hell did you expect? Parading around here in those tight little tops of yours, when you bother to wear one at all, and those low-hanging pants. Driving me crazy when you should know damn well that I'm not about to fuck you. Not for another few days. All you've accomplished is making your punishment impossible for me to endure, while I still expect you to, completely."

"Please don't," he said, almost timidly, as close as he ever came to it anyway, and fiddled with a button on one of the shirts.

"What?" Rupert asked, not because he hadn't heard him, but because he honestly couldn't believe what he was hearing. Balls. Lindsey really was starting to be interested in more than just what they had together. He'd really hoped that this would never happen.

"Just… I've been good, haven't I?"

"And? My sleeping with other people has nothing to do with whether or not you're behaving yourself. It has nothing to do with you at all. I'm leaving," he said, opening the laundry room door behind him and stepping out into the hall, moving backward. "I'll be home later. Honestly Lindsey, I don't know where all this jealousy is coming from all of a sudden."

"Yes you do," Lindsey said to Rupert's back as he watched him walk away, thinking that this time his lover's fucking around had everything to do with him.

***

Fifteen minutes later Lindsey was laying on their bed, wearing just a pair of boxers for sleeping, and reading the latest Rolling Stone, when he heard the front door open and close again. Not long after that Rupert pushed their bedroom door open and came in, not bothering to look at Lindsey, just stripping out of his clothes and putting on a pair of silk pants before grabbing his own book off the dresser and getting into bed next to Lindsey.

"That was quick," Lindsey said, smirking, but still staring resolutely at his magazine.

"Oh, shut up," Rupert grumbled, taking out his bookmark and flipping through the pages.

They both knew he hadn't done what he said he was going to do that night, that Lindsey had essential won this round, and he was getting his quiet night together after all. But he should know better than to get used to it.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Arrangement

Characters/Pairings: Giles/Lindsey, Lindsey/Spike, Giles/Wes, Giles/others, other slight pairings

Rating: Adult

Summary: Giles is a ridiculously unfaithful wealthy older man, keeping Lindsey around for pleasure and company, but when someone else catches Lindsey's eye, he realises he wants more out of a relationship. Giles has sex with just about everyone. Spike tries to. Wes gets in over his head.

Chapter 7

A hand clamped down hard over Lindsey's mouth and he jerked awake instantly, twisted his head to the side to try to escape the pressure and opened his eyes.

Not that it did any good.

He seemed to be blindfolded, as well as gagged now, and he continued to trash for another couple of seconds, the surprise of being woken up like this causing momentary panic. It didn't take long for him to remember where he was though, remember who was with him, and he forced himself to relax, knowing that it must be Rupert who was touching him. Finally.

"Hush," Rupert said, quietly in Lindsey's ear, and waited until the younger man nodded jerkily before he removed his hand. "Good boy."

His hand moved across Lindsey's cheek, thumb stroking over the bone of his jaw, and down his neck, fingers tickling along the flesh. Lindsey was extra sensitive after a week of no contact, Rupert could tell by the frequent hitches in his breathing, the shivers that seemed to run through his entire body at Rupert's every touch, and the older man smiled, grabbing Lindsey's hands suddenly, causing him to jerk, and lifting them up over his head, pinning them to the bed.

Lindsey didn't move as Rupert let him go. Rupert was pleased about that, but hadn't expected anything different. He leant over Lindsey, reaching into the drawer on the table next to the bed, pulling out a tube of lubricant, which he rested on the bed next to Lindsey's unmoving form, for later, and a pair of handcuffs.

They didn't usually use them, didn't usually need them. Lindsey always did what he was told, _almost_ always, and Rupert felt that the use of restraints took away from his control over the younger man, rather than add to it. Today he was feeling generous.

He didn't want Lindsey to have to strain to obey him, didn't want to give him that responsibility, not when he knew how bad his need must be. If he was blindfolded, tied down, he could follow his instincts to open his eyes, try to move, without any repercussions.

"What're…?" Lindsey started, face bunching up at the first touch of cool metal to his wrist. _What was Rupert up to_? he wondered.

"Did you not understand what I meant when I told you to hush?" Rupert asked, almost conversationally. "Or do I have to gag you as well?"

Lindsey clamped his mouth shut and shook his head, as Rupert threaded the chain between the cuffs through the slats on the headboard and clamped the other cuff around Lindsey's other wrist, securing him tightly. Lindsey didn't mind being tied down, he got off on it, really, and it was nice to just be able to let go instead of having to try to behave himself, but he didn't want to be gagged.

Something about that just really freaked him out. He wanted to be able to talk if he needed to, because he knew Rupert would always listen.

"Good," Rupert said, both to the state of his younger lover, all laid out and waiting for him, and to the fact that it seemed Lindsey was interested in cooperating.

"A week, Lindsey," he said, slipping his fingers under the waistband of Lindsey's shorts and slipping them over his hips and off with little effort. He spread the other man's legs apart, situating himself between them, and pushed them up slightly, so that he could crawl forward, pressing his erection snugly against the inside of Lindsey's hip. He'd already taken his own pants off before he'd started this.

"A week you forced me to go without touching you, without enjoying you." He leaned in close to Lindsey, bit sharply on his collarbone, causing Lindsey to almost yelp, and definitely leaving a mark. "I'm tempted to punish you all over again for that." True, Rupert hadn't actually made a lack of sex part of Lindsey's punishment in the first place, but it had seemed like the thing to do.

Lindsey made a sort of whining noise in his throat, begging Rupert without words to not punish him anymore, to just fuck him already, but didn't dare say anything out loud. He would absolutely be punished for that. He wished, not for the first time lately, that they could just be, without any of these games, but that wasn't the way it was. And he was grateful again for the restraints.

"But that would be hard on me as well, and I'm not entirely inclined to put with any more hardship at present. You're… stunning, Lindsey," he said resting his full weight on the younger man and stroking his fingers through his hair, kissing his neck. "Of course, I'm sure you know that. When you're near me I feel like I'm on fire, like I'll explode if I don't touch you."

He ran his hand down Lindsey's side, slipped it behind and under him, gripping his butt cheek, pulling him close. He could feel Lindsey's erection pressing against his hip, felt his own trapped between their bodies and pushed his hips forward a couple of times, groaning in pleasure and gasping at the sensation. It had been way too long. He should have had his needs seen to by someone else.

Lindsey nodded frantically, giving in to the temptation to push up against his lover, to press their bodies closer together. Their cocks weren't touching, and Lindsey didn't try to move so that they were, because that would have been too much, and Rupert would probably had told him off for it, but the gentle slide of his hardness, slick with his own pre-cum, against Rupert's skin was incredible.

"But I am going to touch you," Rupert said as he pulled back so that he was no longer touching Lindsey at all, despite his words, and Lindsey could hear the smile in his voice. "Would you like that, darling?"

Lindsey nodded again and bit his lower lip, forced himself to relax for all of two seconds. But then Rupert lifted his legs up and pushed them back and the next thing Lindsey felt was a warm, wet, wriggling tongue inside his hole and he couldn't help by cry out, push his hips back onto the intrusion and pull at his arms, attempting to flail them. All that did was cause the cuffs to dig sharply into his wrists, tearing the skin a little bit, but it was better than the alternative. Which would have been him grabbing hold or Rupert's head, and forcing his face further into his crack, and there was no way in hell the older man would tolerate that.

Rupert let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating inside Lindsey, and ran his hands up and down the backs of his thighs to soothe him. He could have gotten upset about the noise Lindsey had made, but honestly he had wanted to hear it, had surprised him on purpose to elicit it, and he wasn't _that_ much of a bastard.

Lindsey calmed quickly, settled into making the sexiest little gasping and moaning noises that Rupert had ever heard anyone make, but Rupert could still feel the tension in his legs. He was obviously very turned on, and needed to come very badly. Rupert decided to make him wait.

He continued at his task for several long minutes, tongue pulling out slightly to lick circles around Lindsey's pucker, watching delightedly as it twitched and contracted according to his ministrations. His tongue delved deeper again, and Lindsey's breath hitched, and Rupert moved his hands slightly, letting go of Lindsey's legs with a gentle squeeze, a reminder not to move them.

Lindsey didn't.

His fingers trailed down the back of his thighs and around, toward the inside of his hips, tickling over the soft skin, playing lightly in the curls of hair around his pelvis. His fingertips danced over Lindsey's balls, and he felt them tense and pull up, felt Lindsey's entire body jerk, and the walls of his hole clench tighter around Rupert's tongue. He knew his lover was just dying for something larger in there, and he planned to give him exactly what he wanted. In a little while.

He slid his tongue out and up, licking a hard stripe up across the younger man's sac to the base of his cock, one finger sliding down slightly to take his tongue's place. The finger was longer, could reach further, and he found his lover's prostate without any preamble, pressing against it with significant force, causing Lindsey to jerk his arms again, toss his head back and stifle a loud groan.

Shit, Lindsey thought he was going to die. This was fuckin' incredible. Rupert's tongue on him, in him, his hands, his fingers… He was being so considerate, taking the time to make Lindsey feel good, driving him crazy with lust. He was usually considerate, if selfish, in bed. Always made sure Lindsey was satisfied, if he thought Lindsey had earned satisfaction, but only as a second thought to his own pleasure. And he hardly ever went down on him. It just wasn't something Rupert usually did.

This wasn't everyday sex that was going on here, now. This was something special. Something to let Lindsey know that Rupert was over whatever had happened, that he forgave him, that he was proud of him for doing so well in his punishment, and again, a reminder than any pleasure Lindsey ever experienced was at Rupert's discretion. Positive reinforcement. Like he was some kind of fuckin' dog.

It was nothing new, he reminded himself. It was the same way Rupert had always treated him. So there was no reason to get upset about it this time. Besides, he felt way too damn good to get upset about anything. Especially when Rupert's warm mouth closed over his erection, lips clamping down hard, and sucked.

The finger in his ass was joined by another, twisting and curling, brushing over his sweet spot as his lover continued to lick and suck around his cock, tongue putting pressure on the underside, licking up the prominent vein. His hands were balled into fists, desperate to move. Not to anyplace in particular, just to move, to trash, to be able to express how fuckin' good it all felt.

But he stayed still, just let himself feel, like he knew Rupert wanted him too. His lover wasn't being particularly aggressive in his movements, not making any effort to bring Lindsey to the edge quickly. His movements were lazy, playful, tip of his tongue darting out to lick across and dip inside Lindsey's slit, then swirl down the shaft again, as he was swallowed to the root, Rupert's throat squeezing around his head.

It was the sweetest torture Lindsey had ever experienced, and he wanted it to end, and last forever. He'd gone a week without an orgasm. Rupert had even resorted to putting a cock ring on him while he slept, because on the second night he'd been caught fucking the mattress during an erotic dream and his lover wanted to make sure he didn't accidentally experience any pleasure.

The noises he was making, quiet as they were, as per Rupert's orders, were starting to become more desperate, the closer he got to release, and he wanted nothing more in his life at that moment than for Rupert to suck, as hard as he could, so he could lose himself, experience bliss, shoot his load down the man's throat, make him taste what he'd never tasted before.

So of course he wasn't surprised when Rupert must have sensed how close he was, and stopped. Pulled off him with a pop, gave his cock a parting lick, and backed away. Rupert had sucked his cock a couple of times before. He could literally count them all on one hand, but he'd never been allowed to come in his mouth. He wanted to, so fuckin' bad, but it was obviously something Rupert had drawn some kind of line over.

Lindsey was unable to suppress his piteous moan of disappointment, but Rupert only smiled, even though Lindsey couldn't see it for the blindfold, and sat up. His fingers still worked inside Lindsey's hole, slowly and carefully, much more so than the man needed.

"Don't worry, dearest," Rupert said. "I'm not about to abandon you. You've been such a good boy for me today, all week, and I'll be very happy to see you come." He picked up the previously discarded lubricant with his free hand and squeezed some onto the two fingers that were playing inside Lindsey as they were pulled out, then pushed them back in on a slick slide.

Lindsey shook a little bit at the coolness, but otherwise didn't respond. Rupert worked another finger inside, all three now working together to loosen him, to give him pleasure, to make him want. Lindsey's face was contorted, Rupert noticed as he played, the pleasure, the waiting almost too much. He slid in another finger, and watched Lindsey's mouth open on a silent cry.

It was mostly pleasure, the lubricant took care of any significant discomfort, but four fingers was more than Rupert usually gave him, and he had to stretch a bit to accommodate them.

"I'm going to fuck you, Lindsey," Rupert told him, working the fingers in and out, stretching him so that when he slid his cock inside there would be nothing but long-awaited pleasure. "Would you like that?"

Lindsey nodded, lifting his legs a bit higher and pushing down harder on Rupert's fingers. Fuck yeah, he would like that.

"Good," Rupert said, and slid his hand free, thinking that Lindsey was more than sufficiently prepared. "I've missed you, love," he confessed, lowering himself over Lindsey, holding his stiff cock in one hand, placing at Lindsey's entrance.

"Been wanting this, needing this," he continued, pushing forward slightly, the head of his cock breaking through the tight ring of muscle. "So badly. Fuck, darling…"

He closed his eyes, grunting softly, as he pushed slowly inside, taking a good ten seconds before he was fully seated, then tilting Lindsey's face with his hand and kissing him. And it was amazing. They were both so full of desire, so desperate for contact, affection, sex, that they forgot anything and everything else in the world, but for their bodies and their need.

Teeth clashed and tongues slid against each other, and then lips pressed tightly together before separating again, making way for more teeth and tongues, and it was good. It was such a good kiss, in fact, that Rupert found himself much closer to the end that he had planned to be, and he had to pull back, had to slow down the thrusts of his hips.

He didn't want this to be over too quickly.

Again Lindsey squeaked, a disappointed squeak, but otherwise kept quiet, kept doing what was expected. Rupert noticed, yet again, but this time decided to be generous. Sort of.

"You can speak now if you like, dearest," he told him, still pushing in and out on torturously slow movements. Torturous for both of them. "Make noise. I think I'd like to hear you."

"Fuck!" Lindsey screamed almost instantly, all the previous arousal and pleasure and denial having built up in him, needing to get out somehow. "Faster! Fuck, Rupert, I need… shit… amazing."

Rupert let out a short little laugh, doing his best not to alter his pace, and placed a hand on Lindsey's cheek. "I'm flattered," he said. "But I'm not going faster. I don't want this to be desperate." No, but he wanted _Lindsey_ to be desperate. "I want to take my time, enjoy this."

And he did. He enjoyed it for almost two hours, pushing them both to the brink, listening to Lindsey shout out in pleasure and curse him for not letting him finish. He'd wanted to curse himself, a number of times, but the desire to make this last was overpowering.

Eventually though, he couldn't take it any longer, and apparently neither could Lindsey.

"Fuck!" Lindsey cried out. "Please! Please, baby, I need… just let me…"

"What, Lindsey?" Rupert asked, fighting the shaking need in his own body, placing a calming kiss on Lindsey's lips. "What do you need?"

"Need…" Lindsey breathed out, pulling at his arms, pushing his hips up faster and faster. "Need to come. Please baby. I've been good."

"Yes darling," Rupert agreed, speeding up his thrusts. "You have."

He lifted himself up enough that he could slide a hand between them, grab Lindsey's cock and jerk it, quickly. Within seconds they were both coming, screaming, bodies jerking, and not long after that they both collapsed, Rupert on top of Lindsey, both of them breathing rapidly and deeply.

It had been phenomenal, for the both of them.

Rupert didn't let himself relax for long, not right away. He reached up to unfasten the handcuffs and remove Lindsey's blindfold, relishing the feeling of the younger man's arms around him when they were free, and kissing over his eyelids, as he blinked to adjust to the light.

"Damn, baby," Lindsey said, still struggling for breath, Rupert splayed out on top of him. "That was… amazing."

"Mmmm," Rupert agreed, not feeling particularly articulate himself. "It was."

They were quiet for a couple of minutes, touching each other lazily, hands moving over skin, lips pressing kisses to anywhere that was convenient.

"I've missed being with you, babe," Lindsey said, jumping and chuckling as Rupert's hand clamped down gently over his balls. "It's been way too long."

"If you think that," Rupert said, squeezing again and letting go, sliding his hand up Lindsey's side. "Then perhaps you'd consider behaving yourself. We wouldn't be forced into positions like this, otherwise."

Lindsey could hear the slight kidding tone in his lover's voice, and grinned widely. "Behave myself?" he said, as if it were a foreign concept. "You know me better than that."

Rupert grinned back and snorted, pulled Lindsey closer and kissed him again. "Yes, my darling. I know you very well." He did. And he knew this most recent acting out of Lindsey's was significant, couldn't be fixed with just a good fuck, but they'd have to deal with problems as they arose. For now, everything seemed to be fine.

"Now, let's get our arses out of bed and cleaned up. Simon's back, and I'm sure he's waiting outside the door with a glass pressed to it, trying to suss out if we're finished."

Lindsey snickered and kissed his lover and they both got up, heading toward the shower. Together.

***

"Get dressed," Rupert had said to Lindsey, at around seven o'clock that night. They'd been lazing around the house all day, reading, watching television, Lindsey loving the fact that he was being waited on again, instead of having to cook and clean for himself.

Rupert had made a few phone calls, took care of some banking and such, and given Lindsey free reign over the remote, sitting next to him out he couch and suffering through some American football.

After he'd taken all he could of that he'd had Lindsey slip to his knees and give him a torturously slow blow job as he'd leafed through a biography on Keith Moon, and ordering Lindsey to stop before he was finished. The book _or_ the oral sex. He wanted to be able to fuck Lindsey again later than night, and two orgasms in one day was pushing it. There was no in hell he'd be up for three.

"You're usually tellin' me to do the opposite," Lindsey said, grinned playfully around the words.

"Yes, well, as much as I do like looking at you in nothing at all, there are laws about indecent exposure in this country. And I'm taking you out."

"Out? Out where?" Lindsey was curious, but not overly so. Rupert took him out a lot, to show him off.

"Wherever you'd like."

***

Lindsey had made the most of his night. Rupert didn't often give him the chance to decide where they went and what they did, so Lindsey took advantage of it.

They went out to eat first, Lindsey claiming that he was hungry enough to eat the ass end of a horse. Rupert had spluttered distastefully at the phrase, but had agreed to take him to his favourite place to eat. A grill house. Not in the least bit fancy, not expensive. But they served steaks the size of one's head, and all the seating looked like it had been carved from logs. Lindsey loved it. Said it was the best food he'd ever had, so despite Rupert's dislike of the place, that's where they'd had their supper.

After that, Lindsey had dragged them out to a movie, something with a lot of violence and explosions and completely lacking in plot, and if Rupert had ever known the name of it, he'd forgotten very quickly.

And then, inevitably, they'd ended up at Willie's.

It wasn't exactly Lindsey's idea, he didn't think, but after the movie had ended, and Rupert had finished jerking him to climax underneath his jacket, that was casually tossed over his lap, he hadn't really been thinking clearly, and had just suggested that they go for drinks.

And Rupert naturally thought he had meant Willie's, because that's where they always went for drinks. And so when their limo had pulled up out front of the bar and Rupert had helped him out, holding his hand and kissing him on the cheek as if he was some movie star or something, he wasn't really prepared to give an excuse as to why they should go somewhere else.

So, they went to Willies.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Arrangement

Characters/Pairings: Giles/Lindsey, Lindsey/Spike, Giles/Wes, Giles/others, other slight pairings

Rating: Adult

Summary: Giles is a ridiculously unfaithful wealthy older man, keeping Lindsey around for pleasure and company, but when someone else catches Lindsey's eye, he realises he wants more out of a relationship. Giles has sex with just about everyone. Spike tries to. Wes gets in over his head

Chapter 8

Lindsey was a little nervous at first, to be going to the place where Spike worked, having to see him for the first time since the blond had come to the apartment he shared with Rupert and had kissed him, wanted to do more. He thought Spike might do something, say something in front of Rupert, get him in trouble somehow. But he'd only smiled at them as they'd come in, like he would have any other night, and went back to serving drinks.

"Two John Smith's, please, Anya," Rupert ordered, smiling at the waitress, his eyes crinkled and kind. "Will that do for now, darling?" he asked, looking toward Lindsey.

"Sure, baby," Lindsey answered, dipping his fingers into the bowl of peanuts on the table in front of them, and tossing a few into his mouth. "Sounds good."

"Perhaps something to munch on?" Rupert asked him, smiling at how he seemed to be hungry again, even after such a substantial supper. Rupert thought it was cute.

"Wouldn't say no to some Buffalo wings," Lindsey grinned. "Course if we had those, our fingers would get all sticky, and we might have to help each other… clean them off."

"An order of chicken wings, please" Rupert requested immediately of Anya, mind already conjuring up pictures of Lindsey licking the sticky sauce off the pads of his fingers, and him doing the same of his lover.

"If you're ordering them for your boyfriend," Anya said, making a note on her pad. "I wouldn't. He doesn't look like he needs any more deep fried foods."

"What the fuck?" Lindsey asked, pushing away the bowl of peanuts and turning toward their waitress, upset. "Why the fuck does everyone think I'm fuckin' fat?"

"Not fat exactly," Anya said, unapologetic. "Fattening. It's nothing to be ashamed about. When people get older, their metabolism tends to slow. Neither of you should be eating anything they cook in this bar."

"Well, thank you for that advice Anya," Rupert said, smiling at her, not so secretly pleased at her candour. He really did like the girl. "But I happen to think Lindsey looks fantastic, and needn't be concerned at all about… chicken wings."

"Well, if that's a risk you're willing to take..."

"Thank you," Rupert said, reaching his hand across the table to cover Lindsey's, squeezing it. "That'll be all."

"Sure," Anya said, putting her pen and pad into the slot on her belt. "But…"

"Yes Anya? Is there something else we can do for you?"

"I was thinking that we could have sex," she said, excited and direct. "It makes sense."

Lindsey coughed, almost choking on his peanuts and Rupert just kept smiling, thumb rubbing over Lindsey's hand, so that the waitress could see. It wasn't that she was unattractive. She was _very_ attractive. Young, beautiful, great body, personality that Rupert admired quite a lot, even if it was inappropriate at times.

"Does it?" Rupert asked, his voice remaining casual.

"It does," she replied, decidedly, and nodded her head. "You have money, and I like money."

"Doesn't everyone?" Lindsey muttered, rolling his eyes, and kicking Rupert's foot under the table.

Rupert just about managed to keep his 'omph' to himself, and twisted his hand so that his fingers were threaded through Lindsey's, giving his lover's hand an extra hard squeeze, telling him without words to shut his mouth. "That's true, Anya. And yet I still see no reason for us to have sex."

"Well, I haven't told you what would be in it for you."

"And what is that?"

"I have breasts," she announced proudly, and so that anyone in a 20 foot radius could hear. "And you like breasts."

Lindsey couldn't hold back his snort at that, and Rupert chuckled as well, but made a point of landing his gaze directly at her chest. It was true, he did like them. And Anya's were fantastic.

"I know you like penises, too," she said, stamping her foot, what little patience she had wearing thin. "I'm not an idiot. But I know you like my breasts. I've seen you looking at them."

"Yes," Rupert admitted, not seeing any reason to lie. "They're quite something." Lindsey kicked him again, under the table, and shot him a cold glare, and oh, yes, that was one reason to lie. He'd momentarily forgotten about Lindsey's sudden jealous streak.

"It seems like the perfect match to me," she told him.

"You might very well be right about that, beautiful," Rupert agreed, his mind flashing to a picture of what they'd look like together. It was a great picture. "And as flattering as that is, I'm not looking for any sort of match at the moment. Perfect or otherwise."

She looked at Rupert, and then across to Lindsey, who didn't seem to be all that pleased with her at the moment. She couldn't really blame him. She was trying to steal his man. She sighed and reached across the table, snatching up the bowl of peanuts. "Your loss," she told Rupert, and walked back to the bar to fill their drink order.

"Oh, relax darling," Rupert said as he looked at Lindsey and noticed the slight angry tick in his jaw. "If anyone is going to take your place, it certainly won't be her. I don't think I'd be able to shut her up long enough to actually enjoy myself."

Lindsey shot Rupert a look, thinking he sounded a little too pleased with himself. "You could always gag her," he pouted.

"Lindsey, that's enough. It's been a wonderful day. Let's not go ruining it with petty jealousy. You know that you're the one I want."

Sure, Lindsey was _one_ of the ones that Rupert wanted. Still, he was the permanent one, and he knew Rupert was right, he'd been acting crazy lately. "Sure," he agreed, but didn't sound very happy about it. "I gotta hit the head. Back in a sec," he mumbled, and walked away.

***

"No luck, hey pet?" Spike asked Anya, grinning at her and holding a glass under the tap to fill it with beer. Anya had always wanted to marry rich, and she'd gotten it into her head recently that Rupert Giles would probably be her best bet, because she actually liked him, and probably wouldn't need to fake orgasms.

"Damnit," she cursed, sticking the ticket for the chicken wings on the ledge of the window to the kitchen and shouting her order to the cook. "What the hell is so great about Lindsey anyway? I mean, sure, he's handsome, and strong, and muscular, has a great smile and a sexy voice…"

She was starting to sound a little wistful, listing off Lindsey's attributes, and Spike rolled his eyes at her, though he couldn't help but agree entirely with her opinions.

"…he has pretty hair, and his eyes have a very nice twinkle, and he does whatever he's told. So what?" she demanded, looking at Spike as if for an explanation of exactly why all those things were so great. "I'm pretty," she insisted, like that should be a good enough reason for Rupert to leave Lindsey and take up with her. "And I have a decently shaped body."

"Sure do, love," Spike said, winking at her and giving her a little pat on her ass. She slapped his hand away almost before he'd even made contact, but smiled at him, knowing that he was only kidding around.

They'd had sex once, and while it had been great sex, it hadn't turned out so well for either of them, what with significant others getting all worked up over it. But they still flirted.

"And I can do what I'm told," she continued, and Spike snorted in disbelief. "What?! I can!"

"Whatever you say, pet." There was no way in hell Anya would ever let Rupert treat her like he did Lindsey. Spike sent a vague thought of good luck to whatever poor, brave bastard would end up married to her some day.

"He's got a _lot_ of money."

"Well, at least you're interested for the right reasons," Spike smiled, and then noticed Lindsey get up from his table and head toward the restroom. "Right, gotta take a piss," he told Anya. "Back in five."

"Five minutes?" she asked his retreating form. "If it's taking you that long, you should really see a doctor."

***

Spike turned the corner and walked down the dark hallway that led to the toilets, and rested casually against the wall next to the men's room door, waiting for Lindsey to come out. He resisted the strong urge to follow him inside so that they could have a little more privacy. Feeling a guy up while he was taking a piss wasn't something that he wanted to experience, not after the last time, and he wanted to catch Lindsey by surprise. He would probably be more agreeable that way.

Not that he really needed the man to agree. It might actually be more fun if he had to fight for it, he thought, and let his hand play idly over his hardening cock.

A minute or so later the door opened and Lindsey stepped out, but he'd barely gotten two steps down the hall when he was grabbed by Spike, and slammed hard into the wall.

"What…?" he started to ask, but was cut off by Spike's lips on his, muffling the sound, Spike's tongue in his mouth, preventing him from speaking at all. Lindsey made a muted sound of protest, and gave a half-hearted push against Spike's chest. He hadn't been expecting anyone to be right outside the door, certainly hadn't expected them to throw him against the wall and kiss him, and it had taken him a second to realise who it was.

But now that he was fully aware, he knew how totally stupid this was. He shouldn't be kissing anyone at all, not after he'd just been busted for the very same thing a week ago, not when his incredibly possessive lover was sitting just around the corner, and he sure as shit shouldn't be kissing _Spike_. And he was really trying not to. Putting in a first class effort, he thought. Mostly.

But then Spike growled, the sound vibrating through his mouth and into Lindsey's, and pushed his hips forward, the hard column of his cock grinding against Lindsey's soft one through their pants, and Lindsey made a piteous sort of moan in the back of his throat and gave in.

Fuck, this was bad. Bad, bad, bad. And so. fuckin'. good. Shit, what was his problem? Rupert was amazing, his life was amazing, and there was no goddamn reason that he should be doing this, that he should be liking this so much.

Spike deepened the kiss when he sensed Lindsey's acquiescence, plastering himself closer to the larger man, pushing him more securely against the wall. He wormed a hand between them and cupped Lindsey's cock, messaging it to hardness as he continued to buck against him. Oh yeah. The man wanted him. It wouldn't be long now.

He didn't know what the hell Lindsey was so uptight about. They obviously wanted each other, and there was no reason they shouldn't have a little fun. He'd give him back when he was finished, and if old Rupes had a problem with it then he could get bent, and stop treating Lindsey like property.

Besides, Lindsey must be overreacting. Rupert fucked around all the time, and he wouldn't send Lindsey packing just because he did it once. That would be crazy.

"I want you, Lindsey," Spike told him, pulling his mouth back just enough to utter the words against Lindsey's lips, hand still working over his clothed cock. "Want you to fuck me. Take me. Show me what you've got. Want you to do it now. Let's go into the washroom and we can lock the door. You can fuck me against the wall, hard and fast, and be back to your old man before he even knows you're gone."

Lindsey groaned and turned his head, so that his lips were no longer pressed to Spike's, but Spike just took that as an invitation to transfer his attention to Lindsey's neck. He kissed it, licked a long swipe from Lindsey's collar bone to his earlobe, and then nipped it sharply, chuckling when Lindsey jumped.

"You can't tell me you don't want to."

No, Lindsey really couldn't. That all sounded really fuckin' good, and almost too tempting to turn down, but he had to. He was already flustered, would already be acting strange enough for Rupert to notice something was wrong, but he could always turn that around and make it seem like he was acting off because he was upset about Rupert's shameless flirting.

But fuck, he needed to fuck someone so bad he could almost taste it. It had been so long, and he missed it more than he thought he would have, and Spike was incredibly alluring.

What he really wanted to do was fuck Rupert. Fuck him into falling in love with him so that he could get his way once in a while, and be treated like more than just a decoration, but he didn't think that was ever going to happen. Up until recently, he hadn't wanted it to.

But whatever the hell his dick might be telling him there was no way in hell he could fuck Spike. Not here, not now. _Not ever_, he tried to tell himself, but had a hard time listening. That lust wasn't going to just disappear, and he knew it.

"Fuck," he panted, thrusting up into Spike's hand one last time before pushing, actually pushing this time and not just putting on a show, and sending Spike staggering back. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not interested."

"'Bout as many times at it takes for you to actually mean it," Spike answered. "Look, I'm not sodding proposing or any bollocks like that. I just want to fuck. So do you. Let it happen."

Lindsey shook his head, trying to deny the truth of the words, and pushed off the wall, standing up straight. "I can't," he told Spike, the words coming out broken and nearly desperate. "I'm happy. Don't you get that?"

"So's Rupert," Spike pointed out. "And it didn't stop him."

"It's different."

"How?"

"I just can't," Lindsey said with finality. He couldn't. And most importantly, he didn't really want to for any reasons beyond immediate gratification. He wanted Rupert.

"Lindsey…" Spike purred, taking a step closer and placing his hand on the other man's hip.

"No," said Lindsey, batting his hand away and stepping out from his place between Spike and the wall. "Just… no."

Spike sighed as he watched Lindsey walk off, back to Rupert, and considered for the first time that Lindsey actually had feelings for the older man, and wasn't just using him for the lifestyle. He could sort of see that, if he squinted real hard. Rupert actually was a pretty decent guy. Hell, he'd paid for Spike writing class before he'd even known that he'd get anything out of it, so he really couldn't be too hard on the guy.

And it wouldn't stop Spike from pursuing Lindsey, even if that were the case, because Lindsey was incredibly hot, and Spike would give almost anything for a piece. But he didn't want him to end up hurt. When they'd worked whatever the hell this was out of their systems, he'd have to make sure to back the hell off, so he could go back to being a pretty little trophy wife.

***

Rupert hadn't asked any questions when Lindsey had gotten back to the table, most probably because Lindsey had tried his best to be placating, drinking his beer, even though he didn't particularly like that brand, and eating the wings when they came out, casting sly glances at Rupert across the table, and trying to ignore any sense of wrong that might be plaguing him.

All he'd noticed was his younger lover seeming defensive and short, though trying valiantly to hide it, and it all added up with what he'd noticed lately. Lindsey's odd turn of jealousy, and him becoming more invested in them as a couple, and not just a mutually beneficial arrangement. He knew he'd have to put a stop to those thoughts at some point, but it was harder than he might have imagined it would be, deciding what to say.

He cared about Lindsey. Really, truly cared about him. And despite his rules and games and whatnot, he didn't in the least want to see him hurt. Not emotionally. He couldn't give the younger man what he suspected he wanted, but he could give him something, and he hoped to God it was enough. He didn't want to have to be without him.

They crashed through the door to their apartment together at a little after two o'clock in the morning, having spent the past few hours talking and drinking and playfully teasing each other in their mostly secluded booth at Willie's.

Lindsey didn't know why Rupert just didn't let him crawl under the table and blow him right there in the pub. It wasn't like anybody could really get a good look, and everybody knew exactly what they were planning on doing anyway.

But Rupert insisted on being discrete, and Lindsey had no choice but to go along. He didn't really mind, knowing that it would be that much better when they'd gotten home, when they were alone, and Rupert was feeling free to do whatever he liked.

Only this time Lindsey didn't give him the chance to decide what it was he'd like. He couldn't. He was so worked up, from the memories of what had happened that morning, and at the movie theatre, from Rupert's hand on his leg and whispers in his ear over drinks, and from his little encounter with Spike, that he couldn't wait. The second they were through the walkway, and the apartment door had shut and locked behind them, he couldn't help but grab Rupert, pulling him close and tilting his head up for a heated kiss.

Rupert responded, opening his mouth to Lindsey's advances and started to wrap his arms around him, only to have them batted away, pushed down to his sides. Rupert tilted his head questioningly at Lindsey's aggressive behaviour, but didn't stop the kiss. Lindsey did though, a few seconds later, and pushed Rupert back just enough so that he could quickly and violently work the buttons on Rupert's shirt open, and yank it off him.

"Feeling rather desperate at the moment, darling?"

"Fuck, yeah," Lindsey panted, winded from the kiss, lust raging. "Need you, baby."

He pulled off his lover's undershirt, carelessly tossing it on the floor, and then did the same with his own. God, he just _needed_. Needed Rupert, needed sex, needed to take control of something, needed to _take_. He kissed Rupert again, lips hungry and demanding against the older man's, and forced him backward, walking them both toward the bedroom, ridding them of the rest of their clothes along the way.

When they got there Lindsey practically tackled Rupert to the bed, pouncing on top of him, rubbing their bodies together, dragging his hard cock along Rupert's, eliciting a moan of pleasure from the older man. He used one hand to grab Rupert's head, tilting it back so that he had better access to his neck, keeping the man pinned as the licked and nipped.

Rupert went along with it, liked it even. It wasn't often that he encouraged Lindsey to take charge of things, but in truth it turned him on to see his younger lover like this, so needy, and even dominant. He quite often indulged his boy, let him decide what he wanted and how he wanted it, and take it for himself, rather than wait for Rupert to offer, but there were lines, and Lindsey knew what they were.

"Yes, Lindsey," Rupert gasped. "Oh, darling that feels good." He was tempted to pick him up by his hips and lower him down on his cock right then, but Lindsey seemed to need something, and he was in the mood to spoil him, to let him do things his way. To a point.

Lindsey slowly drew his hips back and thrust against Rupert once more, the tip of his cock dipping a little bit lower this time, to drag across the older man's balls, and he had to stop moving, even stopped breathing for a couple of seconds, to try to get control of himself. If he didn't, he was likely to try to take something that Rupert would kick his ass six ways from Sunday if he were to try to take.

"No," Rupert said, not unkindly, as if reading his mind.

"I didn't say anything." Oh, shit. He always had been more obvious than he'd like, and Rupert almost always seemed to know exactly what was on his mind.

"No, but you were thinking about it."

Lindsey sighed and rested his forehead on Rupert's chest. "Yeah," he admitted. "I was thinkin' about it. Why is that so wrong? Not like I did anything."

Rupert placed his hand on Lindsey's head as it turned, rubbing his thumb over it lightly. "It's not wrong, dearest. It's just not going to happen. I would have thought you'd have known your place by now."

He did, that was the problem. He didn't used to think it was a problem. Was ecstatic at first, just to insinuate himself in Rupert's life. Got off on it after that, being controlled the way he was. He still did, usually. But there was something about the way Spike had offered himself, the way he made Lindsey feel, the knowledge that he could be the one in control, if he only wanted it bad enough. It was hard to resist. And to his total surprise, and with a slight bit of horror, he realised that those pesky feelings that he'd always had for the older man, despite his trying to pretend that he didn't, were starting to turn into something deeper, something that needed a different kind of relationship.

"Yeah, yeah I know," was what he said.

"You knew what the deal was when you agreed to it, years ago, Lindsey," Rupert told him, still stroking his hair, the back of his neck. "And it's been working for us so far. We're not equals. I'm in charge here, and we do things my way. Regardless of my reasons for the choices I make."

"But…" Lindsey hedged, not really wanting to speak anymore, but driven to do so. "What if I want it that way? What if I want things to be more equal?" He almost couldn't believe he was wasting his breath asking that. First of all, he wasn't entirely sure he did, and second, it wasn't as if he expected Rupert to just up and start treating like an actual partner.

Rupert smiled at him and placed a kiss on his head. "But they aren't. I hold all the cards here, darling, and we do things my way."

"Yeah," Lindsey said again, resigned. "Sorry. Didn't mean to kill the mood."

"Look," Rupert said, shifting Lindsey so that he was lying beside him and not on top anymore. "I'm going out of town tomorrow, for the night. No need to look like that about it, dear. I'm not going to get away from you, or to meet someone else. Dear Lord, Lindsey, you really need to get this insecurity under control. It's business."

"You don't have any business."

"I'm thinking about getting some."

"What?" Lindsey asked, confused by thinking the words 'Rupert' and 'business' together, and by the seeming swift change in conversation.

"Hmmm," Rupert confirmed, smiling at Lindsey. "I thought I might buy a baseball team."

"What?!"

"You can play with it if you like," Rupert offered, grinning. "But only if you behave."

"Are you high? You don't even know anything about baseball," Lindsey said, still not quite understanding if Rupert was serious, and if he was, what he was getting at with this. He never knew if he should take him seriously when he said shit like that.

Sometimes he was just messing with him, but once, he'd come home with exclusive rights to manage some up and coming pop princess, and not having a clue what to do with it once he'd gotten it, he purposefully lost it in a high stakes poker game in Vegas.

"I'd like you to take the time while I'm away, to consider what you want. I know things have been… rocky… lately. But I'd like for things to go back to normal. I want to keep you, for a long time yet. Think. Decide if you want the same thing."

"What are you talkin' about?" Lindsey asked, angrily. "Of course I do!" He wasn't sure if he wanted things to go back, exactly, but he did want them to get better. And there was no way in hell he wanted to leave Rupert. He'd take what they had together over not having anything at all, that was for damn sure.

"Just… think about it."

"But I…"

"Think. Please," Rupert insisted. "Things won't change, darling. It's been years, and this is how it is. I don't want you with me if you're not happy anymore." That was the truth. He desperately wanted to keep Lindsey with him, and a great part of him was selfish enough not to care what Lindsey thought about it, but in the end, he really did want him to be happy. And he certainly wasn't prepared to give up any level of his control to keep him that way.

"I am!"

"Lindsey," he said, his tone a warning.

"Fine," Lindsey agreed, somewhat reluctantly. "I'll think about it." He'd try, anyway, but he didn't see that he was going to come up with anything different. He was where he wanted to be.

"In the mean time," Rupert said, grinning lasciviously and doing his best to lighten the serious mood that had crept up on them. "Why don't we take advantage of the fact that we're both naked?"

Lindsey let out a short burst of laughter and shook his head slightly. "Sure, baby," he said, kissing him and climbing on top of him, straddling his waist. Trust Rupert to be interested in sex, no matter what they'd just been talking about. But, he had a point. They were both naked, and hard, and sex always seemed to make things better between them. Sex and presents.

And if he was serious about that baseball team, then Lindsey was going to owe him some damn good sex.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Arrangement

Characters/Pairings: Giles/Lindsey, Lindsey/Spike, Giles/Wes, Giles/others, other slight pairings

Rating: Adult

Summary: Giles is a ridiculously unfaithful wealthy older man, keeping Lindsey around for pleasure and company, but when someone else catches Lindsey's eye, he realises he wants more out of a relationship. Giles has sex with just about everyone. Spike tries to. Wes gets in over his head.

Chapter 9

Rupert left at half past eight in the morning, Henry taking him in his limo to the airport to catch his 9:45am flight to Phoenix. He and Lindsey shared a pleasant breakfast together, and Rupert kissed him goodbye, promising him that he'd be thinking of him, and that he'd back the following afternoon.

Lindsey had gone out to a museum that morning, and then shopping in the afternoon, mostly just looking around in music stores, trying to decide if Rupert would let him have that kick-ass amp, for his electric guitar. He didn't play it much, didn't like it as much as his acoustic, but the noise was fun, sometimes.

He considered calling up Charles, or maybe one of his other friends, and heading out for the night with them, but he wasn't really in the mood. He just wanted Rupert to be back, and for things to be alright, and he didn't think he'd be very good company at the moment.

Instead he went home, alone, asked Simon to make him a pizza, and stared blankly at the television for a couple of hours. But once Simon and Ana had gone home he began to feel a little too alone, the television and radio not providing nearly the quality of company they usually did. Not that he wanted company, really, but a distraction would have been nice, something to keep his mind occupied until Rupert came home.

Willie's would probably provide that for him. He'd be able to get drunk with the comfort of having other people around, but not people he didn't have to talk to if he didn't want to. But he _really_ didn't want to see Spike tonight. Whenever he saw the blond, things seemed to get confusing.

He called ahead, spoke with Anya, who immediately apologised for trying to steal his boyfriend, even though she was sure that she could make him happier than Lindsey could by giving him babies. And she would appreciate his money a lot more than Lindsey would, and that kind of money should be appreciated.

He told her that he appreciated it plenty, and when he asked if Spike was working that night, she assured him that he wasn't.

What she failed to tell him, however, and Lindsey found out when he was too far into the pub to leave without looking like a dumb-ass, was that while Spike wasn't working that night, he _was_ there. Sitting at a table, having a drink with someone, and fuck if that someone wasn't Liam. Small fuckin' world.

Spike saw him and smiled, waving him over when he realised that Rupert wasn't with him, and Lindsey was tempted to just ignore him. To go sit down at the bar, have a drink by himself, and that was still what he planned to do, but Spike probably wouldn't leave him alone unless he at least said 'hi' first. He probably just wanted to rub Lindsey's face in the fact that he was with someone else. Not that it was bothering him. Nope.

"Spike," Lindsey greeted, nodding his head, then turning to Liam.

"Lindsey, this is Liam. Liam, Lindsey," Spike introduced before Lindsey had a chance to say anything to the dark haired man.

"Yeah, we met," Lindsey said, and then to Liam, "What's up?"

"You met?" Spike asked, with a little bit of surprise.

"Yeah," Liam answered, smiling at Lindsey but feeling sort of awkward about seeing him again, under any circumstances. "I had a uh… a business meeting… with his boyfriend at their house the other week."

"Oh really," Spike asked mischievously, knowing exactly what 'business meeting' was code for. And besides, he'd seen Liam and Rupert together the night he'd first invited Lindsey back to his place, so he knew that Rupert had fucked the guy. He was surprised that he would have done it at home, with Lindsey right there, though. "A business meeting with old Rupes, eh? And at their house? Lindsey just loves that kind of thing, don't you Lindsey?"

"Shut the fuck up," he mumbled. Yes, they all knew exactly what had happened. Big fuckin' deal. Was there a reason that Spike insisted on talkin' about it? "So, you two huh? Gotta say, you seem perfect for each other. Got a lot in common, I think."

"Nah," Spike drawled and kicked back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. "Angel here's too much of a bottom for me. Like a little more man in my man."

"Hey!" Angel protested, sitting up a little straighter and kicking Spike in the ankle, sending it sliding off the one it was resting on, to the floor.

"Angel?" Lindsey asked.

Liam snorted. "That's what Spike called me when he _unsuccessfully_ tried to hit on me the other day."

"Yeah, well you're pretty and girly like one," Spike teased.

Lindsey rolled his eyes at their banter, but in truth he was a little jealous. He didn't really want Spike for himself, and he sure as shit didn't want Liam, but there was a small, irrational part of him that was hurt when he'd seem them sitting together, when he'd heard that Spike had tried to pick Liam up.

"Right, well, I'll leave you two love birds alone," he said, and went to grab himself a stool at the bar.

Twenty minutes later he was still working on his first beer and studiously trying not to look in the direction of Spike's table, when the irritating son of a bitch plopped down on the seat next to him.

"What happened to _Angel_?" Lindsey asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. God, he didn't even know why that bothered him so much. He already had someone. Someone much better than either of those two fucktards.

"I think…" Spike started, turning around to watch the guy that Angel had been watching for most of the evening smack him on the ass and usher him out the door. "I think he's about to go home and suck some guy's cock."

Lindsey just about choked on a sip of his drink at that, though he should have expected it, coming from Spike, whether it was true or not. "And you're okay with that?"

"Told you. We're not together."

"Well, you sure seemed to be hitting it off."

"What's the matter, petal?" Spike teased, shifting his leg so that his knee rubbed against Lindsey's. "Jealous?"

"Oh, you're so full of yourself," Lindsey said, turning slightly so that he was facing further away from Spike. That would work. If he wasn't looking directly at him, it would be easier to tell him to leave him alone, and he wouldn't feel so damn torn inside.

"Like to be full of you," he mumbled, too quiet for Lindsey to hear, because if he had, that would have just been way too embarrassing. "So. You here all by your lonesome? Where's your hubby tonight?"

"Phoenix."

"Right." Well, that was convenient. "Wanna go someplace and fuck?"

Lindsey laughed and shook his head. "Sorry Casanova. Smooth as those pick-up lines might be, I ain't fallin' for em."

"But you're thinkin' 'bout it, aren't you?" Spike asked, completely sure of himself.

Lindsey couldn't honestly say that he wasn't. "I'm thinking about a lot of things," he said.

"Like for example the fact that you're not as okay about him shagging me and you not being allowed to as you pretend you are?"

"Oh, please," Lindsey snorted. "He's not _shagging_ you. He fucked you _once_. Big fuckin' deal." Despite what had been going on lately, it wasn't very common for Rupert to fuck around, and it was even less common for him to see the same person more than once.

"Whatever you say, boss," Spike said, covering his look by taking a large swallow from his glass.

Lindsey narrowed his eyes and watched Spike carefully. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Nothing," Spike said, unable to wrap his head around the fucked up relationship that Lindsey and Rupert were in. "I'd best fuck off before Anya sees us talking and tattles to daddy."

Lindsey let out a grunt of frustration after Spike got up and walked away, finishing off his beer and slamming the glass down on the bar. Damnit! Spike always seemed to make him feel terrible about what he had with Rupert. Rubbing in his face the fact that he was essentially a whore, and making that sound like a bad thing. Making it seem like Lindsey was somehow less, just because he did every damn thing he was told and let Rupert fuck him and fuck him over for a fancy life.

Well, fuck Rupert for making Lindsey care so damn much about him that it would matter that all he was was a whore, and fuck Spike for pointing it out all the damn time, for making Lindsey want to risk throwing away everything for a few hours of fun.

He could do whatever the fuck he wanted to do, no matter what anybody said or thought, and right now, he wanted to fuck Spike.

He got up to leave, brushing past Spike on the way and whispering in his ear, "My place. Half an hour," before giving him a rough shove that didn't even halfway relieve the aggression he was feeling, and walking out.

And then he went home and waited.

***

And waited.

More than two hours had passed since he'd left Spike at Willie's, and Lindsey still hadn't heard from him. He got his guitar out, played a few songs, put it away again, had a drink, turned on the television, turned it off again, had another drink and turned on the radio.

This was stupid. _He_ was stupid. Fidgeting and fluttering around nervously, waiting for his date to show up, like some kind of jumpy virgin. He never should have asked him over. It was just so very wrong, Rupert would kill him, and it appeared that Spike wasn't even interested anyway. Not after he'd gotten Lindsey to agree.

And then of course, just as he had given up, and was about to shut out the lights and go to bed, there was a knock at the door.

He jumped up off the chair he had been sitting on at the breakfast bar and bolted across the apartment to the door, just about yanking it off the hinges in his effort to get it opened as fast as he could.

"What the hell took you so long?" he snapped when he saw Spike standing there, hands in his pockets and casually rocking on his heels.

"Miss me, did ya?" Spike asked him, smugly, and pushed past Lindsey, stepping into the foyer.

"Yeah, like the clap," Lindsey muttered, shutting and locking the door and turning around to find Spike already out of his jacket and headed toward the living room, still wearing his boots. "Jesus! Don't walk on the fuckin' area rug with those things on!" he bitched, rushing to catch Spike up. "Actually, take them off." The floor was hardwood, so it would be easy to clean, but he'd rather not have to.

Spike stopped in his tracks, quickly unlacing and slipping out of them, and then looked back at Lindsey. "Want me to take anything else off?"

"God, Spike…" Lindsey said, screwing up his face at Spike's lack of anything resembling tact. It wasn't even as if Spike was saying anything Lindsey didn't say to Rupert all the damn time, but that was different. He and Rupert were… and he and Spike didn't even… Fine, so it didn't really make any sense, but he wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the moment.

"Wot's the matter? Need a little wining and dining first?"

Not for the first time, Lindsey wondered what it was that he'd ever seen in Spike, and thought again that inviting him here had been a colossally bad idea. "Spike, look," he started. "I don't think…"

But then he couldn't finish, because Spike had decided to take some initiative, by pulling his t-shirt up off over his head, and started to slowly unzip his pants.

"What're you doing?" Lindsey asked, voice slightly squeaky as his eyes followed the movement of Spike's hand on the metal zip, slowly down, then reaching into his open pants to cup his dick, squeezing it.

"Wot's it look like?" he asked, continuing to rub himself, and walking backward into the apartment. His eyes never left Lindsey's. He knew the guy was having second thoughts. Hell, that's what he got for making him wait so bloody long, but Willie's had gotten busy, and Anya had asked him to help out for a little while.

"Well? Coming?"

"I uh… yeah." Lindsey nodded, and walked toward Spike, still walking back, until they reached the living room, losing the force of will to do anything else.

Lindsey wasn't exactly sure how it happened, but one minute he was standing in front of Spike in the middle of the room, watching him fondle his own cock inside his pants, and the next, he was naked and on his knees, Spike's cock stuffed halfway down his throat.

There was kissing, he remembered. He'd been overcome by desire and had pounced on Spike, crushing the smaller man's mouth under his, and he had a vague sense that Spike's hands were working over him. That must have been when his clothing disappeared. And Spike's pants, as well. And then he'd felt Spike's hard cock, brushing much too lightly against his own as they kissed, and he'd known that he needed to taste it.

And then Lindsey wasn't thinking anything at all. He was just feeling, experiencing, needing. Needing to taste Spike's spunk, needing to make him come, needing to dig his fingernails into Spike's hips harder, leave marks, needing to do it his way.

He sucked as hard as he could, swallowed around the head, causing Spike to buck his hips and cry out, and getting off on the fact that even though he was the one on his knees, he was very much in control.

Whenever he did this for Rupert, it was always at the other man's say so, always at his pace. Lindsey was just a tool. Not this time. This time he was gonna take what he wanted, do what he wanted. Play Spike's body like Rupert always played him, and make the mouthy little shit love it.

"Fuck, Lindsey," Spike moaned, letting his fingers card through Lindsey's long hair, pulling on it gently. His eyes were closed and his head was tilted back, but then Lindsey swallowed and hummed, and rolled Spike's balls around in the palm of his hand and Spike's eyes shot open, his hips jerking forward.

"Shit!" he cursed, short of breath, getting closer and closer to the release he knew Lindsey wanted to give him. He looked down then and his knees wobbled, the sight almost too much. "Pet, you have no idea what you look like down there, do you?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

Lindsey made a sort of sound of agreement around Spike's dick, knowing damn well exactly how good he looked. Rupert told him all the time. It was still nice to hear someone else tell him how good he was. He hadn't heard it from anyone but Rupert in a damn long time.

"So pretty," Spike continued, and Lindsey moaned again, sucking Spike down. "So perfect. On your knees with my cock in your mouth. Like you were _made_ to give head."

A shiver of pleasure ran through Lindsey at the praise, and his hand flew to his own cock for a moment, needing to touch, to bring himself off as he brought Spike off. But that wasn't what this was about. He'd been conditioned to get off on the approval, even if he'd had a thing for it long before he'd ever met Rupert Giles, but this was about Lindsey calling the shots, and it sure as fuck wasn't going to end like this.

Stifling a sound of disappointment, he pulled back from Spike, letting his erection slip free from between his lips, and stood, almost growling at him, then kissing him. "Yeah," he said, because he couldn't really disagree. "And I bet I know what you were made for."

Spike laughed in delight when Lindsey turned him around and shoved him down over the arm of the couch, jumping on top of him, his hand shooting straight to Spike's ass, fingers finding his crack, unerringly.

"I'll just bet you were made to be fucked, weren't you Spike? Bet you love to have that little hole of yours reamed. Bet you even beg for it, don't you?"

"Whatever turns you on, pet," Spike said, squirming back, trying to get Lindsey's fingers inside him, without shame. "Come on, stud. Give it me good. Fuck me hard. _Please_."

"Shut up!" Lindsey ordered, two fingers jabbing inside sharply, causing Spike to wince, but only slightly. Two seconds later he was back to writhing and moaning. Lindsey didn't want to be humoured, he wanted this to be real. "Just… shut up," he said again, softer, and added another finger, twisting them around, stretching Spike out.

Spike did as he was told, and waited, patiently, for Lindsey to prepare him. It didn't take long, and soon he was rewarded with the feeling of the blunt head of Lindsey's cock at his hole, pressing softly.

"Are you ready?" Lindsey asked, and then didn't bother waiting for an answer. He pushed in, slow and steady, giving Spike sufficient time to adjust, if he'd needed it. And boy howdy did it feel incredible. He lost control fairly quickly, the tight heat of an ass around his cock, the feeling, the power, of fucking somebody for the first time in over four years, just too damn good.

He hammered away inside Spike, driving them both closer and closer to the edge, not particularly trying to make it good for the blond, not having enough sense at the moment to consider anything besides his own need for release. It turned out that it didn't really matter, because Spike was angled over the couch so that Lindsey was hitting his prostate on every third or fourth stroke, and when he added that to the stimulation he was giving himself by jerking off, he wasn't complaining.

"Shit, Lindsey," he managed to get out between pants and groans. "So close. Gonna…"

And that was enough to both push Lindsey to the brink, and snap some sense back into him. "No!" he cried out and stopped moving inside Spike, grabbed Spike's wrist and stopped it as well, effectively cutting them both off.

"What the bleedin' hell do you mean 'no'?" Spike spluttered, trying to move his hips, but having no luck, as Lindsey had him pinned.

"I mean… shit," Lindsey cursed, trying to hold Spike still. "I mean we gotta move."

"What?! Don't know about you, love, but that's what I'm tryin' to do!"

"No, I mean off the couch. On the floor."

"And you just had to stop us right before the good part to get your change of position in? I'm willing to hang out a little longer if you want to try out some more stuff, but for the love of fuck, let's just finish this!"

"The couch," Lindsey ground out, trying to move Spike off of it and to the floor without pulling out. "We're gonna mess up the couch."

"So? Who the bloody fuck cares?"

"Rupert hates mess. Won't even let me drink my fuckin' coffee on the couch. He'd kill me." He used to be able to, and he could still drink whatever he liked when he was sitting in his own chair, but a couple of years ago he'd spilled his coffee, and Rupert had made Lindsey work for the day as Ethan's secretary to pay for it to get cleaned. And now he wasn't allowed anywhere near Rupert's precious sofa with anything that could stain it.

Cum probably fell in to that category.

"Are you kidding me with this? You're fucking someone else. In his house. And what you're most worried about is making a mess?"

"Just… get on the fucking floor."

Spike sighed, but did as instructed, the two of them moving carefully together so that they were laying on the polished wood, still in relatively the same position. They both started moving again, almost without pause, and were coming within seconds, screaming and cursing and collapsing as the pleasure ebbed, trying to catch their breath.

It wasn't until afterward that Lindsey realised he hadn't even bothered with a condom, and the thought made him vaguely sick. He never used one with Rupert, hadn't even touched one since they'd gotten together, but he knew that every single time his lover was with someone else, he was careful.

And now, not only had Lindsey betrayed his wishes, outright defied him, but he'd potentially risked the health of them both, and knowing that as well as hurting Rupert emotionally by doing what he'd done, he could very well hurt him physically, sat heavy in his gut. It wasn't like he could get away with suggesting they use protection for a couple of months while he secretly got tested for every single social disease he could think of, but if he and Rupert had sex, there would be a risk.

Spike probably didn't have anything, but he didn't think it was his right to take that chance with anyone's body but his own. He didn't know what the fuck he was going to do.

"You gotta go," Lindsey said, pushing himself up and grabbing the box of tissues from the table, perfunctorily cleaning himself up and then passing them to Spike.

"Can't." Spike took the tissues and wiped off his cock, the cum dripping out of his hole, and the mess he'd made on the floor.

"What do you mean, you can't?" Lindsey asked, grabbing his pants and pulling them on, suddenly feeling very naked.

The fact that he wasn't wearing any clothes and was covered in two kinds of spunk didn't seem to bother Spike in the least, because he just rolled over on his back and folded his hands behind his head, looking for all the world like he was sunbathing. "Drove here. Drank a mickey of vodka in the visitor's lot before I came up. Won't be going anywhere for a while, unless you want me coming back tomorrow for my wheels."

"Fine," Lindsey said standing up and grabbing the rest of his clothing, holding it close to his chest, as if it could protect him from how terrible he was feeling at the moment. "Stay here if you want. On the couch. I'm going to bed."

Spike just smiled at him and watched him walk off, but when the bedroom door had firmly closed behind Lindsey, the smile faded from his face. He found his underwear and t-shirt, putting them back on, and flopped down on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

He really didn't think Lindsey would have been feeling so bad about what they'd done, thought a good shag would have loosened him up some, not done the opposite. He honestly hadn't wanted to cause any trouble, just to have a little fun, just to show Lindsey what else was out there, and that he didn't have to settle for being someone's kept boy. Even if that someone was as amazing as Rupert.

Seemed that Lindsey really cared for him, though, or he wouldn't be so off about all this.

Ah well. They'd had some fun, at least, and Spike wasn't interested in Lindsey in the long term anyway, so if the guilt was still plaguing Lindsey in the morning, Spike would apologise and promise to leave both he and Rupert alone from then on.

***

Rupert's business had ended up taking much less time than he'd thought. Apparently the owner of some piece of shite team or another was desperate to offload it, and the price had been too good to pass up, so after only a few hours of discussion, and a few drinks in the hotel bar, Rupert had acquired himself a baseball club.

He managed to catch a flight home very early in the morning. So early in fact that he hadn't even gone to bed the previous night, instead heading to the airport at five o'clock in the morning, and winding up back home by half seven.

He was pretty excited about what had happened, more so for Lindsey than for himself, because he knew how much the younger man enjoyed the sport, and he couldn't wait to get home and share the news.

But as the elevator doors opened onto the penthouse floor, and he started down the hall toward his apartment, he saw something. He saw his door open, saw Spike step out, saw Lindsey follow halfway, and Spike lean back in to kiss him.

Lindsey didn't return the kiss, gave Spike a little bit of a shove, in fact, and shook his head. But the fact that Spike was leaving their home first thing in the morning, and feeling comfortable enough with his lover to kiss him goodbye, was all that Rupert needed, to know what had gone on.

Rupert had known that Lindsey had fooled around a little, had even suspected that Spike was the one, but to see this kind of proof, to know that they must have spent the night together and to know what they must have done, that Lindsey had been brazen enough to do it in their own home… it hurt.

For the first time, he thought about how it must feel for Lindsey to know that he had been with someone else. But that didn't matter, he told himself. And it was different. He never lied to Lindsey, never tried to hide anything. He expected certain things, Lindsey

had agreed to them, and Lindsey was purposefully deceiving him. Playing him. Making a fool of him.

And he wasn't going to put up with it. Lindsey had broken Rupert's number one rule, having a physical relationship with someone else. He'd just been reminded of that rule, not that he could have possibly forgotten, and gone and ignored it, obviously thinking that he could hide it, that he could play the dedicated little boy when it suited him, when he could get something out of it, but then take what he wanted when he thought Rupert wasn't looking.

That wasn't going to fly.

He quickly turned into a stairwell, waiting until he saw Spike walk past, and then a few minutes more, just to be safe, before he finished his walk down the hall and into his home. He didn't want to let Lindsey know that he knew about his little affair just yet. He needed some time to cool down first, to pack Lindsey's bags and consider who he was going to get to take his place, and he didn't want to seem agitated when he kicked him out. It wouldn't do for Lindsey to think he'd been affected too much by these events.

Lindsey was jumpy when he went inside, as he'd expected, but he only smiled, remained completely calm and collected and didn't act like he found it in the least odd that Lindsey merely kissed him on the cheek, barely a peck, before running off to shower.

When Lindsey was done Rupert asked him if he'd like to sit down for breakfast, as Simon would be there soon, and he would be happy to have him prepare Lindsey's favourite, but again, he wasn't surprised when Lindsey told him no thanks, and said that he had some things to do that day, leaving the apartment in an awful hurry.

He was obviously feeling guilty.

Rupert had been out doing something with the express purpose of making Lindsey happy, and the boy had been fucking another man. Ungrateful little sod.

Rupert knew that Lindsey knew that he would tolerate a great number of things, would punish him, of course, for any behaviour he found inappropriate, but he would ultimately get over it. Would forgive him. But Lindsey being unfaithful was not one of those things. And Rupert couldn't believe that he'd do such a thing if he were as dedicated to their arrangement as he claimed.

It was over between them. It had to be. And now it was just a matter of telling Lindsey about it, and finding someone else.

Not necessarily in that order.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Arrangement

Characters/Pairings: Giles/Lindsey, Lindsey/Spike, Giles/Wes, Giles/others, other slight pairings

Rating: Adult

Summary: Giles is a ridiculously unfaithful wealthy older man, keeping Lindsey around for pleasure and company, but when someone else catches Lindsey's eye, he realises he wants more out of a relationship. Giles has sex with just about everyone. Spike tries to. Wes gets in over his head.

***

Chapter 10

Rupert left his suitcase just outside the door to the laundry room, knowing that Ana Louisa would deal with it when she came in, and went to get himself cleaned up. He hadn't bothered with a shower earlier in the morning, hadn't really had time, since he'd been drinking until four and then had to hurry to catch his plane, but at the moment the idea of a long, hot shower seemed exactly what he needed.

He was tense, he was angry, he was hurt, and he needed to relax. He also needed some time to think. To think about who he was going to get to take Lindsey's place in his life, and what better method could there be for deciding on his next lover, than whichever face popped up as he was pleasuring himself under a warm spray of water?

He knew that he didn't need to replace Lindsey right away, that it wouldn't kill him to be on his own for a while after he'd kicked Lindsey out, that he could still have all the sex he wanted, without the trouble of sharing his space with someone. But he wanted to. He'd gotten used to having someone around, to having Lindsey around, and he didn't like the idea of coming home to an empty house.

Besides, he very much got off on the power trip that only having a potential long-term live-in lover who would do exactly as Rupert told him, could provide.

The problem with that, was that as soon as he started touching himself, as soon as the steam filled his sinuses and his cock hardened and hot, heavy drops of water ran down his body and the slippery tip of his prick slid through his tight fist, the picture that his mind provided him with was one he didn't particularly want to see at the moment.

Lindsey, of course. On his knees in front of him, sucking him dry as the water cleaned them. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, held his hand still for a moment while he watched the bubbles from the soap run down the drain, and then tried again. He kept his eyes open.

He started to move his hand again, gasping softly at the feeling, moved his other hand to cup his balls, fingers tickling them as he pumped himself, and this time there were no unwanted images of Lindsey, though he had to admit he was purposefully not letting himself conjure them.

A few minutes later he found himself on the brink of orgasm with no fantasies at all, no faces of past one night stands or young men that he thought were pretty enough to spend time with. "Balls," he cursed and jerked his hips forward, achieving a very unsatisfactory climax.

He rinsed himself off and shut off the water, then went to get dressed and wandered into the kitchen, finding Simon had come, and had already prepared his breakfast. He sat down to eat, and to think some more.

In truth there were several young men that he'd fancied, who he was in regular contact with, but he'd never thought seriously about taking them home, because he'd had Lindsey. He didn't want to bother with finding someone new, as that would take too long, and could prove to be too much effort.

No, his best bet was to think of someone that he was attracted to, primarily, someone he liked, although that was secondary, and someone that wouldn't have too much of a problem following orders. And of course it wouldn't hurt if that person was interested back, although Rupert could be very convincing. At least, his money could.

So Rupert thought of one man that he hadn't shagged, that he'd always had a bit of a soft spot for, and someone he knew for a fact had harboured some pretty significant, unrequited feelings for him for quite some time. He would definitely do, Rupert thought. Young, pretty, eager to please, with a carefully controlled fire and incredible dedication…

Yes, it appeared as if this was going to Wesley Wyndam-Pryce's lucky day.

***

Wesley was twenty four years old, much younger than Lindsey, and also more attractive, in some ways. Rupert wasn't kidding himself, he knew he'd never have looked at Wesley twice as a serious prospect, if not for Lindsey betraying him like he had, but as far as last minute replacements went, Wesley a damn good find.

They'd met years ago, when Rupert had fist started to donate his money, and even some of his time, to the World Wildlife Fund, where Wesley had dedicated his entire livelihood. He didn't make a lot of money, it was a non-profit organisation, but he did take home a token pay cheque that Rupert had no idea how he survived off.

He'd always had a bit of a crush on Rupert, but he was shy, almost virginal, and had never tried anything on the older man, never even mentioned his feelings. That was good. When Rupert was thinking of taking someone for the long term, he liked them to be relatively inexperienced, certainly to have never given it up before. And based on what he'd seen of him, he thought Wesley was a safe bet in that regard.

And since he was broke, it wouldn't take much effort to convince him to start a relationship, and to obey the rules.

Rupert was attracted to Wesley, genuinely liked him, as a person, and he was nice, good looking, funny, and smart. He was a tad on the dorky side, sure, but Rupert couldn't expect one person to have it all. Lindsey was as close as he'd ever come to finding everything he wanted in one person, but the man had obviously decided that he didn't want them to continue, and he had to move on.

Shortly before six o'clock, when Rupert knew that Wesley usually finished his work day, he walked into his building, smiling and nodding at several people he recognised as he walked down the far hallway to Wesley's office.

"Knock knock," he said, poking his head around through the open doorway and grinning.

"Hello!" Wesley exclaimed, smiling at the man, happy to see him. Rupert was one of their largest contributors, and getting more money for his cause always excited Wesley. Also, the man was dashing, and incredibly suave, and that smile and that voice always seemed to make Wesley swoon a little.

He did a bang up job of hiding it though, he thought.

"Come in" he said, gesturing at the chair on the opposite side of his desk. "Have a seat. To what do we owe the pleasure today? Another contribution?"

Rupert smiled warmly and sat down across from Wesley, calmly crossing one leg over the other. "Not today, Wesley." He'd given them a fairly heft sum of money just a few months back at high-profile fundraiser they'd thrown.

"Oh," Wesley responded, frowning slightly. "Well then… well then, what can I do for you, Mr. Giles?"

"You can have supper with me."

***

Wesley hadn't been sure what to say at first, Rupert's request catching him completely by surprise, and he'd found it just the slightest bit inappropriate, but in the end there was only one thing he could have said.

He'd imagined it before, of course, Rupert swooping in to the office and asking Wesley to be his, kissing him and confessing his secret love and carrying him off to live happily ever after, but those were just silly fantasies. The reality had been nothing like that, he hadn't expected it to, hadn't expected it at all, but an invitation to supper had sounded just as good in the light of day as all the pretty words of his imagination had.

They were at an Italian restaurant, one that Rupert particularly enjoyed, at a secluded table near the back, with one bottle of wine already gone, and another sitting on the table. They'd taken Rupert's limo there, as Wesley didn't have a car, and they'd been talking, pleasantly, sampling each other's food, making jokes, and more than once their hands had touched as they'd reached for something, and lingered there, heat pulsing through them both.

"I thought…" Wesley said, after he'd swallowed his last bite of tiramisu. The meal had been delicious, and desert just as much so. "I thought you were seeing someone. If I'd known you were single I'd have…" he trailed off, blushing and looking down at his empty plate before grabbing his wine glass and taking a large swig. He'd probably have thrown himself at the man, made a fool of himself. But he remembered quite clearly seeing him at the last fundraising even the WWF had thrown, with a very handsome looking man on his arm.

It was true that he hadn't called him his boyfriend, just introduced him as Lindsey, but Wesley had seen him with Rupert a number of times, going back as long as he'd known him, and Wesley had even had a conversation with Lindsey once, he thought. But whenever he saw them together they always looked quite cozy, despite Rupert's obvious flirting with other people. It seemed clear that they had an open relationship, but Wesley didn't tend to date people in any sort of relationships.

"I was," Rupert admitted, sounding closed off. "But that's ended recently." He didn't see any reason to tell Wesley yet that even if he was still seeing Lindsey, it wouldn't stop him from taking Wesley out, and then fucking him.

"I'm sorry," Wesley said, manners taking over, even though he wasn't really sorry at all. He'd wanted a chance with Rupert for a while, and he was glad to get it.

"I'm not," Rupert told him, smiling and clinking his glass against Wesley's, taking a drink. He was, though. Very sorry. He'd hoped that things with Lindsey wouldn't have to have ended, but things didn't always go as he'd hoped. Wesley was nice though, and would likely try his best to make him happy. "It's given me the chance to take you out. Perhaps… take you home?"

"I…" Wesley stammered, nearly choking on his drink. "Mr. Giles…" It wasn't that he hadn't expected that question. He was well aware of Rupert's reputation as someone who made his way through lovers like they were going out of style. But judging by what he'd seen of Lindsey, and how the younger man had catered to him at the parties, smiled and nodded and looked exceedingly pretty fetching the older man drinks and whatnot, it appeared he also like to have someone a little more permanent in his life.

And the fact that it seemed as if Lindsey was no longer in the picture meant that Rupert was likely looking for a new… boyfriend didn't seem the right word, but it was as close as he could manage.

He couldn't say he didn't want that, but this was incredibly sudden, and he wasn't entirely sure.

"Rupert," the older man corrected. It wouldn't do for Wesley to go around calling him 'Mr. Giles' all the time. Every once in a while, however…

"Rupert. I don't know…"

Rupert put down his glass and placed his hand over Wesley's on the table, firm enough that Wesley would have to make a show if he wanted to remove it, but not so firm that Wesley couldn't draw his hand back if he wanted to. "Wesley," he said. "We've known each other for… what… two, two and a half years now?"

"Yes," Wesley nodded, swallowing, unable to take his eyes off their hands. "Yes, about that."

"I like what I've seen so far, Wesley. And I'd like to see more. We can take things as slow as you like, but I'd rather not wait."

"No, I… of course." What was he supposed to say to that? Yes, probably. And he wanted to. He even knew that he would, because there was something about Rupert that he just wasn't willing to pass up, and he knew his chance would be gone in a flash if he didn't jump on it. "I just…"

"I like you, Wesley. I'm interested in a relationship," Rupert told him, making sure to emphasise the word 'relationship'. "I'll settle for a casual night out, if that's all you're after, but I want more than that. I want someone to be there for me, to share my life, my home, my things… my bed. And I'd like for that someone to be you."

"Rupert, I'm flattered," Wesley said, letting his eyes drift to the table between them, hiding his idiotic smile. "Truly. And to be completely honest, I… I like you to," he almost whispered, as if he was confessing some sort of horrible secret. "Have for quite some time."

"Yes," Rupert agreed, letting a knowing smile slip, and squeezing Wesley's hand. "I know." It wasn't as if Wesley's little crush was a secret.

"Oh," Wesley said, taken aback and suddenly feeling a little exposed. He hoped he'd been better at hiding it. He really didn't see Rupert more than two or three times a year, and hadn't ever had a conversation with him that lasted longer than half an hour, and he didn't think he was that obvious.

"It's alright," Rupert assured him. "It's a good thing, really. I know how you feel, and now you know how I feel. I like you," he said again. "And I'd like you to be with me."

Wesley took a deep breath and turned his hand over, so that his palm was pressed against Rupert's. He knew what the older man wasn't saying, that he was looking for a live-in lover, someone to cater to him, fulfill his desires, like he was sure had been Lindsey's role, when they weren't out seeing other people. And Wesley was nervous about that.

What if he screwed up? What if he couldn't handle it? What if he became inappropriately attached, as he was prone to do, and Rupert decided he wasn't worth the trouble after all? What if after a while Wesley decided that he didn't want to see other people, like Rupert no doubt wanted?

Wesley couldn't exactly picture himself sleeping around, not when he was already in a relationship, but would Rupert insist? Would the older man do as he pleased, even if Wesley insisted on staying faithful? It really didn't seem like something that he'd be interested in, but he couldn't deny that he was very much interested in Rupert Giles.

And he knew that Rupert also wasn't saying, explicitly anyway, that Wesley would have access to his belongings, his fancy house, his limo, perhaps even his money. And for Wesley, that was significant. Perhaps he could even convince Rupert to be a little more generous as far as his donations were concerned.

He didn't know exactly where Rupert lived, but he was fairly certain that wherever it was, it was a step up from a bug-infested hole in the wall above 'Tastee Chinese Food Restaurant', in a less than stellar part of town. His job at the charity didn't pay much.

"I think…" he said, pulling his hand back, and picking up his napkin, wiping his mouth with it and placing it down on the table with finality. "I think that sounds nice."

***

"Drink?" Rupert offered when they'd gotten inside, and removed their coats and shoes. "I'm afraid the chef is gone for the evening, so I can't really offer you anything to eat besides pretzel's, but I do know how to mix a winning cocktail."

They'd just come from supper, so the likelihood that Wesley would want anything to eat at the moment was slim, but he'd wanted to mentioned Simon to sweeten the pot, give Wesley yet another reason why life here with him would be much better than what he currently had.

He'd also called before they'd gotten back, to make sure they'd be alone, and wasn't surprised to find that Lindsey wasn't there. He didn't know where he was, or what he'd been doing, but he'd surely been guilty enough to get gone until he was certain that Rupert was good and sleeping.

"That's quite alright," Wesley answered, following Rupert into the living room. "I'm stuffed as it is. "And I'm already feeling slightly light headed. Any more and I'd have to officially call myself drunk." He already would, in fact, though he thought it might make him seem somehow less manly if he admitted that. He'd not even had an entire bottle of Il Fornello's finest red to himself.

"That wouldn't exactly be a problem, Wesley," Rupert told him, taking his hand and pulling him further inside, smiling. "Might actually make things a little easier." He knew Wesley was a little tipsy, and in truth, he wouldn't be pushing for sex tonight if the young man hadn't agreed to it when he was still sober, but he saw no reason to tell him that.

"And since you've turned down any sort of refreshment, I assume that means you'd like to get straight to the sex?"

Wesley swallowed and looked around nervously, mind racing desperately to see if it could come up with anything else to postpone the inevitable. He wanted it. He very much wanted it. But he was scared.

He'd never let anyone fuck him before, and it wasn't as if he had never planned on it, but he'd somehow thought it would be a lot more meaningful than this. And he had no delusions that he wouldn't be on the receiving end of things tonight.

It would be alright, though. Better than alright. Rupert was a good man, and he'd do right by Wesley, take care of him, and as long as Wesley did what Rupert asked of him, they wouldn't have any problems.

"Well," Wesley smiled, catching Rupert up on his way to the bedroom, and overtaking him, wrapping one arm around the older man's waist. "I thought there might be a tad bit of foreplay, first."

Rupert laughed at that, low in his belly, and let go of Wesley's hand to put both of his around the younger man's back, pulling him close. "Of course, darling," he said, the pet name he used so often with Lindsey transferring easily. "Tonight is a special occasion, after all. Our first time together."

It went unsaid, but not unnoticed, that there would be times when foreplay was not an option. Wesley digested that information, understood that it was a part of this arrangement, but managed not to lose his playful expression. "I'm looking forward to it."

Rupert walked Wesley into the bedroom, keeping his arms around him as they went, hands rubbing over his back and arms. They didn't kiss, not yet, but Rupert kept their faces close, so they were breathing almost into each other's mouths.

"I'm going to take your clothes off for you now, Wesley," Rupert warned him, thinking the younger man might be shocked if he just started to strip him without notice. He seemed like he'd be a little jumpy.

"Yes, alright," Wesley agreed, and tilted his head as Rupert ducked down to place a soft kiss to his neck. He moaned quietly, eyelids fluttering shut, and leaned in closer to Rupert, pressing his neck more firmly against the other man's mouth, letting his groin brush up against Rupert's hardening cock. "Please."

Rupert smiled at Wesley's unsolicited plea, continuing to nibble at his neck as he worked off his shirt, then pants, letting his clothing pool at their feet. Soon Wesley was naked, standing in front of Rupert, body shivering slightly in the chill air, goose flesh rising up where he was touched.

Rupert took a couple of steps back and looked Wesley up and down, taking in his bare form and nodding his head, smiling in approval. "You're quite something, Wesley," he told him, eyes lingering on his chest for several seconds, then drifting down to his crotch, taking his rather impressive erection, and then back up to his face. "Such a pretty thing."

"Err… Thank you," Wesley said, conflicted between being flattered at being called pretty, and offended at being called a 'thing'. "Would it be terribly forward of me," he asked, quirking up the corner of his mouth, "to take your clothes off, as well? I'd like to see you, and I can only imagine you'd be even nicer to look at, the less you were wearing."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, darling," Rupert told him, hands moving to the buttons of his own shirt. "But I can manage to undress myself, thank you."

"Yes I… I didn't mean…"

"Relax, Wesley," Rupert smiled. "Honestly. Neither of us will have much fun if you're constantly worried about doing the wrong thing. Trust me, if you do something I don't like, I'll let you know, and you'll never do it again. Now why don't you get on the bed, get comfortable?"

Wesley did as Rupert suggested, though he had a feeling it was more an order than a suggestion, and climbed onto the bed somewhat awkwardly. Rupert was working efficiently to shed himself of his clothing, tossing things into the laundry basket as he removed them, and Wesley couldn't help but stare, mouth slightly agape as Rupert's body was bared to him for the first time.

It was incredible.

He wasn't inexperienced enough to think that Rupert's body was perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. He was older, so naturally he had a little extra weight, his stomach wasn't as flat it might have been, and his skin was a little less taut than would be ideal. Wesley had certainly been with men with a lot more physical prowess than this man, but there was something about him, something deep and authoritative and inherently sexy.

And seeing Rupert strip for him, seeing his cock hard for him, seeing him stalk confidently toward the bed, where Wesley was lying on his back, dazed expression on his face, trying not to look quite as lame as he felt, was utterly amazing.

He couldn't believe this good looking, kind, generous, incredibly wealthy man had chosen him, Wesley, poor, socially awkward, homely, untalented, Wesley. He didn't think he was good enough, he didn't know how to act good enough, and he was certain that his every effort to appear cool and collected was only achieving the exact opposite.

But Rupert _had_ picked him, and he was going to do his level best not to mess it up.

"Should I…" he started, as Rupert placed one knee on the bed, beginning to crawl nearer. "Should I turn over? Or do you… that is would you rather we do it face to face? I'm sorry," he quickly apologised. "I'm relaxed. I just want this to be good for you."

"I assure you it will be, darling. You'd do better to be worried about yourself."

Wesley didn't have time to wonder what Rupert meant by that, because as soon as the older man had his full weight on the bed, he crawled on top of Wesley, pressing him into the mattress, and taking his mouth in a long, leisurely kiss. Wesley did his best to participate, to throw in a few moves of his own, but Rupert seemed very intent on dominating the action, so after not too long, Wesley let him, just doing as he was encouraged.

It was their first kiss, and it was a great kiss, for both of them. Wesley was deliciously submissive, making Rupert purr deep in his throat. Rupert was coming on a tad strong for Wesley's tastes, as even though people tended not to believe it, he preferred to be the aggressor on occasion. But the kiss was good.

It wasn't long after the kiss started that Rupert had in fact turned Wesley over, telling him that it would be easier on him in this position, and Wesley hadn't seemed to complain, had only chased his mouth until it was out of reach, and he was laying flat on his stomach, rotating his hips.

Rupert leaned over Wesley, covered the smaller body with his own, letting his hard cock slide along Wesley's crack as he placed kisses up and down his spine. He felt just slightly bad that he was in the same bed that he shared with Lindsey, up until that morning, but not bad enough to stop. "Oh, Wesley," he groaned, cock, slicked with his own fluids, sliding up and down between Wesley's arse cheeks. "I'm going to fuck you so very good, darling."

"Ungh," was Wesley's incoherent reply, but he flattened his face down against the pillow, raising his backside further in the air, silently begging for Rupert to do it right the hell now.

Rupert wanted to, was very close to doing so, but he needed to make sure of something first. "You are a virgin, aren't you Wesley?" he asked, voice deceptively casual. If Wesley happened to say no to that, he'd still fuck him, but anything more between them would be extremely unlikely.

"What?!" Wesley spluttered, body tensing, trying to turn his head to look at Rupert. "No, of course I'm not!"

"If I have to tell you to relax one more time, darling, I'm going to lose my enthusiasm," Rupert warned. "You're twenty four years old…"

"Twenty three," Wesley interrupted, not that it made much difference. He just liked to be precise. "I'm twenty three."

"Even better," Rupert grinned, and licked Wesley's earlobe. "And I'm well aware that you've no doubt had sex before. I only meant that I wondered if you'd ever done this exact type of thing before."

"I've been with men," Wesley said, as if he needed to defend himself.

"Yes, I'm quite sure you have." It was cute, Rupert thought, how Wesley felt the need to puff himself up. "But have any of them been inside you?"

Wesley froze, body still as the grave, not knowing how to get out of this while not looking stupid. "Not as such, no…" he said, and yeah, there went trying not to look stupid.

"Good," Rupert said, purposefully not telling Wesley to relax. It _was_ good. "I like to be the first. The only."

Again, Wesley felt as if that was some sort of order, but it didn't seem to make a lot of sense. Perhaps he'd been wrong about how open Rupert's with relationship with Lindsey had been.

Rupert reached across Wesley to the table next to the bed, picking up a tube of lubricant and spreading some onto his fingers. He ran them down the crack between Wesley's cheeks, nudging his own cock out of the way as he did, slipping just the tips of his fingers inside, one after the other, so that there wasn't ever too much at once.

"When was the last time you were with someone?" Rupert wondered out loud.

"Excuse me?" Wesley asked, managing to sound self-righteous. "That's a bit personal, don't you think?"

"Wesley, I'm about to stick my dick up your arse. It doesn't get much more personal that that."

"Yes, well… that's true," Wesley acknowledged. "It's been a while." Over six months, actually, but he wasn't going to admit that.

"For the love of…" Rupert bit out, sick of Wesley's hedging. "Wesley, I honestly don't care. If it's been a day, if it's been a decade. I only want to know if you're clean."

"What? Of course I am!" Wesley answered, a little insulted by the question. "I go for regular check-ups, and I haven't been with anyone since the last. Though perhaps I should be asking you that."

"You needn't worry, love. Your well being will always be a top priority for me." He had been fucking Lindsey without protection for years, but that was safe enough, because Lindsey didn't stray. Not until last night, anyway. And any time Rupert was with someone else, he was very, very careful. "I'm willing to trust you when you say you're clean, and I expect you to do the same. Our relationship depends greatly on trust, darling."

And apparently that was all the explanation Rupert needed to give, before shifting his cock so that it was directed at Wesley's hole. Without a condom, or any more lubrication than the few stray fingers had provided.

"Is this…" Wesley said, interrupting Rupert's movement. "Is this going to hurt?"

"Yes," Rupert answered, and spared only a moment to place a small kiss on the back of Wesley's neck before starting to push forward.

"Wait!" Wesley shouted, snapping his body forward, to prevent Rupert taking him. He wasn't exactly sure why. He really did want to have sex with him, to finally give it up to someone, and most especially this someone, but damn if he couldn't shake those pesky nerves of his. It was truly unfortunate. "Wait… sorry. I just… I don't…"

"You don't want this?"

"Yes! Yes, sorry. I do." Wesley knew what was at stake here. If he was good, if Rupert like him, if he liked Rupert, he'd have a new boyfriend. Someone who would take care of him, care for him, keep him, give double what he usually did to the WWF each year, and most importantly spoil Wesley beyond Reason. It was a nice life and Wesley wanted it.

He couldn't afford to fuck this up.

"I do," he said again. "I'm just a little nervous."

"I know you are, darling," Rupert said. "And the fact that you've never had another man inside you is the only reason you're here right now. I'm not unreasonable, Wesley. I'm not unkind." He really wasn't, and Lindsey would attest to that, if he were there. Then again, if Lindsey was around, Wesley wouldn't be, and Rupert was feeling a little less than kind at the moment.

It wasn't Wesley's fault, he knew, and he was trying to be understanding.

"And if you're having second thoughts, if you don't want this, that's fine." Rupert said. "We can go our separate ways now. But if you do want this, if you want to be a part of my life, if you want to be my partner... then certain things will be expected." And yes, his use of the word 'partner' was deliberate. There was no way in hell that's what they'd actually be, but he had a feeling Wesley needed things to be put into more conventional terms.

"Yes," Wesley agreed, canting his hips back slightly, inviting Rupert to get on with things, common sense winning out over nerves. "Yes, that's fine."

"My sexual satisfaction is near the top of the list of things that are important in this relationship. It comes before yours, darling. Best you learn that now. And if that's not alright, then perhaps we aren't quite the match I thought we'd be."

"I told you," Wesley repeated. "It's fine. Just… Just do it." He was really nervous now, and they both knew that would only make things worse. But he really wanted this, really wanted Rupert, and it would be worth it if he could just get past this. He knew that what he was getting at the moment wasn't the real Rupert Giles. He was usually much softer, much more kind and understanding that this. At least, Wesley thought he was.

Sure, Wesley could tell him to stop, to try it again another time when Rupert clearly wasn't so agitated, probably about things ending with Lindsey, ask him to be more considerate, gentle. But he had a feeling that the only reason he was even given this chance to be with him was because Rupert wasn't thinking properly, and Wesley really needed to take advantage of that now, earn his place, before Rupert decided he'd made a mistake.

"Alright, Wesley," Rupert said, pulling the young man's hips back and lining himself up again. "Calm down. Take a deep breath and bear down. This _is_ going to hurt. Quite a bit, I suspect, because I'm not inclined to be particularly indulgent at the moment. I want to fuck, not coddle you, and you need to realise that sort of thing will happen."

Wesley ducked his head, but nodded, screwing his eyes shut and preparing himself for the pain.

"This is your last chance, Wesley," Rupert sighed. He hated this. He honestly did. He wasn't used to people merely _putting up_ with him fucking them, he was used to them actively wanting it, or at least pretending, and the fact that Wesley seemed so afraid that his erection had considerably wilted wasn't exactly a turn-on.

"Tell me now, if you don't want this," he continued. "I'll not force you. Now or ever. You'll always have a choice." The choice to let me do anything I want, or pack your bags, Rupert didn't say, but Wesley heard it anyway.

"I do," he hastened to assure Rupert. "I do."

"Right then," Rupert said simply, and pushed forward, not too quickly, but steadily, ignoring Wesley's pained cry, the way his back went rigid, the muscles in his legs and butt tensed, and just kept pushing until he was fully inside.

He paused for a moment once he was in, taking a few deep breaths and rubbing a soothing hand over Wesley's back. The younger man seemed to relax slightly, but he was still shaking, breath coming in jagged hitches, and when Rupert leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek, he realised that Wesley was crying. He was also completely soft. Damn.

"Do you want me to stop, Wesley?" he asked, cursing himself for being so uncaring as to not prepare Wesley enough so that he was reduced to tears the first time he was taken, and also for caring enough that it mattered to him. He'd told Wesley what was expected, warned him a few seconds ago that it was his last chance to stop things, but he'd gone back on that, and now Wesley would believe that he could manipulate him with a few well timed tears. That was unfortunate.

Wesley bit his lip, tried to slow down his breathing and force himself to not be quite so tense. He shook his head, no, but the tears were still falling, and he couldn't help the occasional hiccup. Shit, this _really_ hurt!

He could have said 'yes', that he wanted Rupert to stop, and he had no doubt the man would have, but he also knew that would effectively ruin whatever budding relationship they were involved in. He had a nagging suspicion that having any control whatsoever over his own body was a freedom that he gave up the second he set foot into this absolutely stunning penthouse.

Rupert was quick about it after that. He didn't bother to go slow, to take him time, draw out the pleasure. There wasn't really very much of it. Oh, it felt good, both physically and mentally, taking something special, something that only he would ever have, and the fact that Wesley wasn't enjoying himself in the least wasn't enough to turn him off completely.

If he was honest, there was a sick, twisted part of him that got off on it. Wesley's tears, the fact that he'd lost his erection, the way he still offered himself, wanting to please Rupert more than he wanted his own pleasure, his own comfort, his own safety… it was quite the trip.

He didn't try to touch Wesley's cock, didn't try to get him interested, even though he thought he probably could have. And it would have been brilliant. To take him from pained and weeping to hard and begging for release in the same experience would start a sort of conditioning, would go far in teaching Wesley to put up with anything, because there would always be pleasure coming, if he was a good boy.

But that lesson could wait until later. There would be plenty of time. Right now he just wanted to get this done, and over with.

After a couple of minutes it didn't hurt Wesley quite as much, but it was by no means pleasurable. He didn't understand why other people, people he'd been with, seemed to get off on it so much. This felt, at best, after the mind-numbing pain had lessened to a persistent throb, uncomfortable, awkward. The only thing he could think of was that Rupert was purposefully making it hard on him, making it bad. The bastard.

But despite the fact that it didn't feel good, Wesley couldn't help but enjoy it on some deep, twisted level. Being filled was… well, okay not great, but… right. He wasn't stupid, he knew that his first time would hurt, and that Rupert could have gone ab lot easier on him, but he also knew that once that pain was gone, or at least diminished, that this would be exactly what he needed.

Rupert hadn't used much lubrication, and at first his thrusts were raw and dragging, but they quickly got easier, and while Wesley couldn't see, Rupert knew that it was because he was bleeding. He made his thrusts more shallow, didn't use as much force as he could have, but went quickly, and came within minutes, shouting out Wesley's name, making a point of telling him how incredible he was.

That was always important, at first.

Wesley didn't say anything, just tried to hold himself still as Rupert pulled free, and then collapsed to bed, wincing and letting even more tears fall. He was going to be sore for a while.

Rupert desperately wanted to fall down on top of him, fall asleep, let his post orgasmic exhaustion take over, but he dragged himself out of bed and to the washroom, wetting a cloth and bringing it back to the bed.

"Just rest, darling," he told Wesley, and kissed his shoulder, wiping up the mess of blood and cum from his crack, and down his thighs. "I'll take care of you."

He finished cleaning him up, trying to be gentle as Wesley winced at several of the touches, then put the cloth down, and kept stroking Wesley, gently, with his hands, placing soft kisses at random places over his body, until the younger man finally fell asleep.

Rupert got up then, putting on his robe, not bothering to shower. He picked up a suitcase that he'd previously packed and left in the corner of the room on his way out, and wandered down the very quiet hallway.

He poured himself a glass of scotch, thinking that he'd have to teach Wesley what he liked to drink, soon, and took a seat in the living room chair, waiting for Lindsey to come home. He'd have to eventually.

When he heard the sound of the key turning the lock and saw the door push open, almost two hours had passed.

TBC

A/N: Okay, so here's the deal. This story is already completed, and posted on my LJ. And I'm lazy. So, since not all that many people are reading it here, I think I'm gonna stop posting it, and just send any interested parties over here ** http:// rockstarpeach . livejournal . com/72687. html **. But, you know, without the spaces. It's not locked or anything, you just have to tick the box saying that yes, you're 14 and you understand there may be naughty goings on inside. Don't worry, it won't bite :) If, however, anyone is interested in reading it, and you're violently opposed to LJ for some reason, let me know, and I'll keep posting it here. If you do head to my LJ to start reading it there after this chapter, you'll want to start from CH 11, since the chapters are one behind over there. I've posted the prequel as part of this story, and as a seperate story over there, so the numbering is skewed.

Thanks guys!


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